


all your angels will not save your skin

by SilverHeart09



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Doctor!Whump, Idris/Tardis, Yaz as a jazz singer, team TARDIS go undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-13 12:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverHeart09/pseuds/SilverHeart09
Summary: Captured by bounty hunters, it's up to Yaz, Graham and Ryan to save the day and rescue the Doctor. They just have to find her first...





	1. You're a mean one, Mr Grinch

**Author's Note:**

> So this was going to be the next chapter of Glorious II but then once I got going I realised it was going to be too long to be a one-shot so it'll be a multi-chapter fic instead!
> 
> Chapter title (which TOOK ME AGES) is a song called Laughing Gas by the Fratellis and I thought it was apt because in 'The Good Doctor' Yaz and Ryan are basically mistaken for apostles and Graham is mistaken for some kind of deity. I dunno, that was the best I could come up with.

The stage lights rose to a smattering of polite applause and Yaz stepped into the spotlight.

She couldn’t see the audience from her position at the front of the stage. She could just about make out the people in the front row but the rest were buried in shadows, the lights hot and bright in her face. She smiled and flicked her long dark hair over one shoulder, the fabric of her long silken dress swishing with the movement. The makeup was thick on her face and she hoped it didn't melt off with the heat from the lights.

The violin began to play first, tentatively plucking out the opening notes of the song on its strings and then the rest of the band came in and Yaz felt herself relax. She’d done this plenty of times before over the past few months, but it wasn’t until the music kicked in and began to rise and explode around her that she felt as though she could hide herself in the sound, away from the audience’s prying eyes.

The music swelled, the horns blaring and the violins carrying the tune and Yaz smiled at her invisible audience, swishing her hips a little for good measure. She thought she spotted Ryan to the side of the stage carrying a tray of drinks and that helped her focus.

_Remember why you’re here._

‘You’re a mean one, Mr Grinch…’

She’d learnt the song as a child, that familiar green cartoon character always playing on someone’s TV screen at Christmas. It was a catchy song and this arrangement of it was perfect for her voice. She’d always had a gift for singing, but performing was something she’d been thrown into when they’d started this whole charade. Fortunately the quality of her voice was good enough to throw off any doubts the owner may have had about her performing ability, and she’d picked up a lot from the other singers at the club.

Although ‘club’ was the wrong word really. ‘Jazz bar on a spaceship’ was more like it. A massive dance hall which thousands of the galaxy’s inhabitants crowded into every night to listen to music, dance, drink and be merry.

Mainly drink, if she was being honest.

‘...you really are a heel. You’re as cuddly as a cactus, as charming as an eel, Mr Grinch.’

Yaz swished her hair again and smiled as sultry as she could manage, arching her body forwards, making sure the golden fabric of her dress was catching the lights and shimmering through the room. Her manager was very particular about that, always telling her that the performance and the effects were just as important as her voice and the music. She was glad she couldn’t see the audience, it was easier for her to believe that she was singing into a hairbrush microphone in her bathroom mirror that way.

‘You’re a bad banana with a greasy black peel!’

The music burst forth again, the violins and the trumpets doing a call-and-response while the drums took the beat in the background. She was amazed that she’d been able to perform this song halfway across the universe from the place it had originated from. It had been the first one that had come to mind when Mr Fortuno had asked her to sing. She was just glad she’d downloaded the song onto her phone, her new boss had loved it so much that he’d insisted on arranging the music exactly as she’d played it to him. It was appropriate that she was singing this song too whilst she was deep undercover, it had been a favourite of the Doctor’s when she’d heard it for the first time.

_The Doctor._

Yaz was suddenly grateful that there was a little musical intermission and all she had to do was stand there and smile for a few moments while the musicians blasted their instruments from behind her. She wasn’t sure she’d trust her voice enough to sing at the moment.

_Wherever you are, I hope you know we’re coming for you._

‘You’re a vile one, Mr Grinch…’

She spotted Ryan below her, serving those weird green drinks to a group of Zodiacs in the front row. Team TARDIS had been here so long that she was even starting to recognise the species that attended most often and could usually rattle off their species, planet of origin, and the language they spoke. The Doctor would be impressed.

‘You have termites in your smile.’

She always thought of Mr Fortuno when she sang that line. He was nice enough to her, but she would never consider him a friend. She had a job to do and that was to use her voice - and other assets - to make him as much money as possible. He’d offered her *other* work when she’d started, making it clear that it was entirely her choice.

_‘A lot of our performers do it, a way to make some extra credits you know. You keep 30% of any profits.’_

She declined immediately and he’d said that if she changed her mind all she had to do was let him know. He was only concerned with giving his guests a good time so they’d come back and spend more money, he knew that prostitutes who didn't want to be there provided a bad service and that simply wouldn’t do.

‘Now given the choice between the two of you I’d take the - seasick crocodile!’

Her voice swelled and she belted the last few notes, feeling her lungs expand as she hit every note perfectly on key and in tune, losing herself in the music, her arms outstretched at her sides and head tilted to the ceiling as she sang.

‘The words that best describe you are stink, stink, stiiiiink!’

Ryan looked up at her and smiled and she took a deep breath as the music faded away and the audience rose to give her a standing ovation, their applause hard and their cheers loud. She smiled warmly and bowed, the noise following her as she exited the stage and made her way into the wings while the stage was set up for the next performer.

_I hope you heard that, Doctor._

 

The next performer was already on stage by the time Yaz had changed into a tight-fitting red suit and made her way to the bar, Graham soundlessly pouring her a glass of water before she even had to ask.

‘Amazing as always,’ he said warmly, pride in his voice.

Yaz drained the glass in one go and he poured her another which she sipped slower, unable to hide the yawn. Mingling with the guests after a performance was compulsory, but fortunately Yaz always managed to sneak moments like these with her two friends and co-conspirators. She was so glad that she’d managed to find them both jobs working at the club with her after she’d been hired by Mr Fortuno.

‘Guys!’

Ryan darted over like a shot, his tray empty but the next lot of drinks orders already filled out which Graham took and started to pour as he talked excitedly to them.

‘I might have something. See that Zocci at table three?’

They glanced over at the red alien with what resembled spikes sticking out of his head. He was dressed elegantly in a three piece suit and had a beautiful humanoid-type alien on his arm with long dark hair, dressed in a tight fitting golden gown similar to Yaz’s but a good few inches shorter. The Zocci was looking around him nervously, watching the other guests closely. He had one hand tucked into his jacket and Yaz was sure that she’d find some form of weapon in the pocket. Weapons of any sorts were strictly barred in the club, but Mr Fortuno occasionally let it slide if they were wealthy guests likely to tip heavily. He looked as though he was sweating and Yaz recognised the telltale signs of a deal about to go down when she spotted a tall gentlemen in long flowing robes make his way over to the Zocci’s table. He had an enlarged head and grey hair and was escorted by a female with similar characteristics.

‘What’s going on?’ Graham asked, trying to lean across the bar to get a good view without looking too suspicious.

‘I overheard him talking to the that bloke earlier,’ Ryan said. ‘They were discussing payment and transfer of a product he has for sale.’

‘Payment for what?’ Yaz asked, urgently. ‘What is the Zocci selling?’

Ryan leant in closer and the three friends all put their heads together so he could drop his voice to a whisper.

‘He was talking about a High-Ranking Gallifreyan female.’

Yaz felt her heart do a flip. The Doctor had never told them what species she was and they’d had to be careful who they spoke to in the club when they’d tried to figure it out. In the end it had been Yaz who had succeeded. She’d been talking to an extremely drunk Luthopian who was bragging about the new ship he’d acquired recently that was capable of time travel. Yaz had had to get used to pretending to be pretty brainless when talking to the guests. Intelligent women on this side of the galaxy raised alarm bells and it was easier to get information when you giggled after every sentence and dropped a careless hand on someone’s arm, as much as Yaz hated it. Her innocent wide-eyed question of ‘is it a TARDIS?’ had prompted an obnoxious laugh.

‘Gosh no! Although I’d love to get my hands on one of those. Time Lords weren’t that keen on sharing their technology, arrogant bunch. Deserved what they got!’

‘A Time-what?’ Yaz had asked, trying to make her eyes as wide as possible whilst not showing her excitement at the first potential lead they’d had for weeks.

‘Time Lords! From the planet Gallifrey. Travelled around the universe in those extraordinary machines. Many species still view them as some kind of deity! Morons.’

‘Gosh, that sounds so exciting. I wish I could do that,’ Yaz had said, resting her chin on her hand and gazing dreamily into his face.

‘Ah, my pretty one,’ the Luthopian had said, gripping her chin in his hand. ‘Women such as you are much safer here. You’re so delicate! I doubt you’d survive out there in the big, wide, universe.’

Yaz had almost smacked him in the face and if it wasn’t for a warning look from Graham, who’d been cleaning mugs at the other end of the bar and listening in on their conversation, she might well have done.

‘My protector,’ Yaz whispered, an image of King James immediately popping into her head.

‘That being said,’ the Luthopian continued - looking her up and down with a look that Yaz knew well - ‘I’m sure that we could come to some kind of arrangement if you wanted to take a trip into the vortex with me?’

Fortunately, she’d been called to the stage at that moment and had successfully managed to avoid answering the question.

‘What constitutes a High-Ranking Gallifreyan?’ Graham asked now, urgently, aware that a deal was about to be made.

‘I don’t know,’ Ryan said, shaking his head. ‘But the first thing that bloke with the big head said was “does she come with the TARDIS?”’

‘That’s gotta be the Doc!’ Graham said, unable to contain his excitement.

‘Ssh!’ Yaz whispered. ‘Keep your voice down. Let the deal happen, it may be our only chance of finding out if it’s really her. Ryan, follow the big-headed bloke, see where he goes next. I’ll talk to the Zocci and see if I can get anything out of him.’

‘What about me?’ Graham asked.

‘See what the woman does,’ Yaz told him, getting off the bar stool she was currently perched on as the Zocci and the big-headed alien shook hands, the big-headed man walking away with his companion, the Zocci looking relieved that it was all over. ‘If she moves, go after her. She looks like an Amazonian, private security. I’ll go talk to our cactus friend.’

 

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

 

The Doctor didn't bother looking up when the door opened, continuing to gaze out of her little window at the expanse of space in front of her. The Trudly Nebula was beautiful and bright in front of her and she focused on that rather than the footsteps heading in her direction, concentrating on identifying the name of every star she could see shining in the darkness.

‘We’ve found a buyer for you,’ a voice said from behind her, and the Doctor tensed her entire body to prevent herself from turning around and breaking the man’s nose. She’d done that not long after she’d arrived, Rassilon knows when, and she’d been injured so badly in response that she’d almost ended up with a new face and body.

‘People aren’t cargo, mate,’ she responded, deliberately quoting Jack Sparrow. That was the best line in the whole franchise, in her opinion. It was important to have little inside jokes to keep yourself sane when you’ve been locked up for months on end.

‘They are when they fetch a high price,’ her captor purred, gripping her chin and forcing her to look up into his ugly, flat face. ‘And you, my pretty, have fetched a very high price indeed.’

‘I belong to no-one,’ she responded, but the chains around her wrists and ankles unfortunately said otherwise. As did the lack of clothes on her back. She was just lucky that her species were able to withstand cold temperatures, her last cellmate had died in hours.

‘You belong to whoever I sell you to and you’d be wise to remember that, Lord Doctor,’ her captor responded with an ugly smirk. She winced at the old title she’d so hated and he leered at her. ‘Unless you prefer “Lady”, of course. Not that you are much of a lady. I bet you’d spread your legs for the first man who came along just to relieve the boredom. Speaking of…’ He looked down at her chest, bare and filthy in the dark light of the cell. He licked his lips. ‘Your transport isn’t coming to get you until tomorrow. Plenty of time for -’

She spat in his face and could honestly say it was worth the punch to the eye she received in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I DIDN'T PUT THE SONG YAZ SINGS IN THE NOTES OMG  
> it's 'You're a mean one, Mr Grinch', but it's the LINDSEY STERLING VERSION


	2. The Roback League

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer because there's some backstory at the beginning :) Thank you so much to Ladybugbear2 for proofing it for me! Confusing backstory is just the worst.

_She’d been right behind them._

_One minute she’d been excitedly explaining the migration pattern of the yellow and blue birds that were flying serenely above their heads - that no-one had asked her about but her enthusiasm was so infectious that they couldn’t bring themselves to interrupt her - and the next she was gone, cut off through her sentence by a strangled scream and the smell of burning and metal, her friends spinning around to see her vanishing in a flash of light._

_The people in the village around them screamed and ran, scattering into houses and hiding under crates and behind bushes. Graham, Ryan and Yaz were left shocked in the middle of the square with no clue where their friend had gone and a sudden onslaught of sound as the TARDIS doors way at the end of the street flew open, the emergency klaxons ringing out through the suddenly silent village._

_The three humans raced towards it, throwing themselves inside the ship. Only the Doctor knew how to control the TARDIS, surely she must be behind the sudden noise. But the ship was empty and the doors slammed shut of their own accord as the occupants stumbled against the console, the central column beginning to move as the instruments sparked and fizzed, the dematerialisation sound shocking them out of their confusion._

_‘Wait, we can’t leave without the Doc!’ Graham protested to the ship, who let out a whine in response._

_The TARDIS lurched and knocked its three passengers to the floor as it sped through the Time Vortex, sparking and beeping, the emergency klaxons loud and unforgiving in their ears. All Yaz, Ryan and Graham could do was hold on and pray that wherever they ended up, the Doctor would be waiting for them._

_The ship landed with a thud that shook the console room and the alarms stopped, the lights dimming until it was only the emergency lighting that flashed at them as the power drained and the TARDIS fell silent._

_‘What do we do now-AH!’_

_The three occupants pressed their hands over their ears as something forced its way into their heads, panic perforating every cell in their body as a presence, terrified and so ancient, tried to communicate with them. It wasn’t pain - just pressure, something bright and golden and wonderful but so alien. It reminded Yaz of the feeling she’d had when stepping through the portal in Norway into the anti-zone, that sensation of being pushed into another plane of existence._

_‘Don’t be frightened! It’s just me.’_

_A woman in a raggedy Victorian-style dress appeared in front of them, messy dark hair piled on top of her head. She was surrounded by golden light and appeared almost see-through, Yaz could just about make out the console through her torso. She looked panicked and was anxiously wringing her hands in front of her._

_‘Sorry about this, I had to move quickly you see, the signal fades so fast.’_

_‘Signal?’_

_Yaz picked herself up off the floor to look uncertainly at this women. She certainly didn't appear hostile, if anything she looked like she was in distress. Her face was pale and she was agitated, the light surrounding her shimmering._

_‘Yes. When those monsters stole my thief. Their energy signals were virtually untraceable. I think we were just in time, another few moments and it would have been lost. We’re not at the same location but I got us as close as I could.’ Her light was started to fade, Yaz noticed, and she was becoming more see-through, as though she was dissipating into the air._

_‘Sorry, what is going on?’ Graham asked. ‘Who are you? Where’s the Doc?’_

_‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you!’ the woman cried._ ‘They _have her, she could be goodness knows where! We’re definitely in the same galaxy but I can’t feel her anymore, she’s too far away.’_

_‘Who’s “they”?’ Ryan asked. ‘Why do they have the Doctor?’_

_‘The Roback League,’ the woman said, her face contorted into a snarl. ‘Intergalactic bounty hunters.’_

_‘Bounty hunters have the Doctor?’ Fear seeped into Yaz’s voice and she started to feel dread flooding through her._

_‘Yes, you have to rescue her!’ the woman pleaded with them. ‘I drained my power chasing them across the universe. I won’t be able to help you.’_

_Sometimes, Ryan would contemplate later, there are moments when you need time to understand something and moments when you understand it all at once; the realisation of the gravity of your new-found knowledge smacking into you and almost bowling you over._

_In this instance, Ryan found himself to fall into the latter of those two descriptions._

_‘Your power?’ Graham asked, while simultaneously Ryan eloquently exclaimed: ‘Holy shit are you the TARDIS?!’_

_‘The TARDIS matrix, yes, that’s me. Hello fam! It’s so lovely to finally meet you. I do wish it was under more pleasant circumstances,’ the woman said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and a quirky wave._

_‘You’re the reason I had cold showers for a week?’ Graham protested._

_‘You kept referring to me as a “thing”!’ the TARDIS replied, irritated. ‘My thief did warn you I didn't like it!’_

_‘And your thief is…’_

_‘The Doctor,’ she replied. ‘It’s my - oh what’s that word? When there’s someone you care about and you refer to them by a certain word. Oh gosh why are words so large and complicated? - pet name! It’s my pet name for her. Because she stole me, although really I stole her but we don’t have time to unpack that right now. I’m using the last of my energy to communicate with you but it’s almost gone. Find my thief! Bring her home, she’ll be able to fix me.’_

_She was almost completely transparent now and the golden light surrounding her was practically gone, only a vague shimmer remaining, like a heat haze far off in the distance._

_‘How do we find her?’ Graham yelled, panicking as she began to fade completely from view._

_‘She thinks you’re brilliant!’ the TARDIS cried as she vanished. ‘Be brilliant!’_

_Then she was gone._

_‘Shit,’ Ryan said quietly. Graham was too shocked to even tell him off for his use of bad language._

_‘What do we do now?’ he asked, looking at his two young friends, their faces equally shocked._

_‘You heard the TARDIS,’ Yaz said quietly. ‘The Doctor’s been captured by bounty hunters and we need to find her.’_

_‘Right,’ Graham said, swallowing hard. ‘Better get a shift on, then.’_

**X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X**

_The Doctor reappeared with a scream as she dropped to her knees, clutching her chest, her hearts beating wildly out of sync as she tried to catch her breath. Travelling by transmat wasn’t fun at the best of times, but she knew she was a lot further away than where she had been. Her body felt as though it had been ripped in half then shoved back together again._

_‘My god,’ came a voice from above her, and she looked up; gritting her teeth against the pain. She felt her hearts plummet as she recognised the familiar insignia sewn to the jacket of the man in front of her. A golden coin in front of a gun. He had blue spiky hair and a nasty sneer, his face battered and scarred._

_Roback._

_‘She can’t be,’ another man breathed, and she saw the lights of a scanner travel up and down her body, determined to invade every part of her to confirm what they suspected her to be._

_‘She’s from Gallifrey,’ the blue-haired man said to his partner. He bent down in front of her and she fixed him with her best glare, in too much pain to try and speak._

_‘Do you want to make this easy for us? I’d love to know if you’re a Time Lord, it would save us so much trouble.’_

_‘Go to hell,’ she spat at him, and he grinned, a diamond shining bright in one of his teeth._

_‘Oh I am so glad you said that.’_

_He turned to the other man, a shorter alien with long thick dreadlocks and a missing eye._

_‘Begin the tests.’_

_He turned to the Doctor again and smiled that awful grin again._

_‘Let’s make this canary sing.’_

* * *

‘I hope you’re enjoying your evening,’ Yaz purred, sitting down carefully in the seat the Zocci’s companion had just exited, the woman heading towards the exit with Graham following behind at a non-threatening distance. The three of them had gotten good at snooping around and following others over the three months they’d been there.

‘Uh, yes. Much more so now,’ the Zocci said, relieved, as Yaz poured him a glass of Pearl Ale from the silver jug on the table. It looked and tasted like water but would get you as drunk as a skunk in seconds. The Doctor had warned her three humans friends to never drink it when they’d attended a party in the 63rd century, and Yaz pretended to take a sip as she watched the Zocci take a big gulp of his.

‘You looked nervous,’ she said, as innocently as she could manage. ‘I wanted to make sure you were okay.’

‘I just conducted a business transaction,’ the Zocci said, his tongue noticeably looser after drinking half of his Pearl Ale. ‘It was a risky one, could have gone wrong in so many different ways, but I think all things considered I did quite well.’

‘How fascinating,’ Yaz replied, topping up his glass with more drink. ‘You must be such a clever man.’

The Zocci practically preened at the compliment, the needles sticking out of his head shuddering a little.

‘Why thank you, I do try. This product was extremely valuable, wanted by half the galaxy!’

‘What was the product?’ Yaz asked innocently, falling into her wide-eyed dumb-human routine.

‘Oh, um, not sure I should tell you,’ the Zocci said uncertainly.

‘Oh _please,’_ Yaz begged, leaning forwards on the table and resting her chin in her hands, allowing the Zocci a view down her top. ‘I do love hearing about these sorts of things, and it sounds like it must have been such a challenge for you.’

‘Well, I suppose I _could_ tell you,’ the Zocci said after a moment’s hesitation. He leaned in closer to her and Yaz copied him, smiling sweetly.

‘We acquired a high-ranking Gallifreyan female,’ he whispered conspiratorially.

Yaz gasped in fake surprise. ‘From _Gallifrey?’_ she whispered back. ‘I thought the planet was destroyed!’

This she did know for certain. After learning the Doctor’s species from the drunk Luthopian, she’d managed to gleam more information about these elusive Time Lords. She knew that their planet, Gallifrey, had been destroyed in the Time War against the Daleks. She knew that the Doctor was undoubtedly the last of her kind and her ship was similarly likely the last in existence. She also knew that if you name-dropped the Doctor’s name into any conversation it would generally start a heated debate, with some species so frightened at simply the mere mention of her name that they would leave the room. There was a lot to unpack there that she was sure the Doctor would never want to talk about.

‘Yes, we thought so too, but she is undoubtedly from Gallifrey,’ the Zocci said with a smug smile.

‘How do you know she’s high-ranking?’ Yaz asked, throwing in a girly giggle for good measure and wondering when would be a good time to try and determine who ‘we’ referred to.

‘Oh, to still be alive after all this time she is undoubtedly a Time Lord,’ the Zocci said. ‘You see, individuals born on Gallifrey aren’t automatically Time Lords, you have to graduate the Academy to claim that title and with her feistiness and energy she couldn’t be anything but!’

‘Did she tell you her species?’ Yaz asked, curiously.

‘Oh no, of course not. She isn’t a fool, she knows how much she’s worth to certain buyers. We put her through all the usual tests and that confirmed it for us. She stank of Artron Energy, unless she was one of the last to come through the Time Agency she must be a Time Lord.’

‘Usual tests?’ Oh and that was harder to say, Yaz’s cheerful fake demeanour slipping slightly at the prospect of what these ‘usual tests’ could be. Fortunately for her, the Zocci didn't notice her hesitation and currently on boasting about his exploits. He took another big glug of his drink and Yaz noticed that he had an unusual tattoo on his right forearm, a golden circle in front of a gun that was quickly hidden beneath the sleeve of his jacket.

‘Yes! We always put our products through rigorous testing to determine they are authentic, the real thing if you will! For Gallifreyans, we make them run flat out for miles on a treadmill to test their heart strength, lung capacity and cardiac output. We do this until they pass out from exhaustion so we can check how fast they take to recover. We then throw them into space to check they have a working respiratory bypass system, pump them full of harmful drugs and chemicals to monitor the efficiency of their ecto-spleen, and finally we injure them badly enough for them to go into a healing coma so we can monitor that too. This one passed all the tests, she is undoubtedly a Time Lord.’

He sat back in his chair with his arms folded looking smug, and Yaz found herself at a loss for words.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to shout and kick and hit and _injure_ the man in front of her the same way he’d undoubtedly injured her best friend.

‘You injured her?’ she whispered silently.

‘Yes, we have to check her regenerative capabilities you see so we shot her through a lung to see how long it took her to heal. She was in the coma for almost two weeks but managed to pull through, although we were worried she was going to regenerate at one point. We used to make Time Lords regenerate, back in the old days, but since she’s probably the last one and we don’t know how many regenerations she has left we decided against it. She’s very pretty too. We can sell the attractive ones for more money. Who knows, maybe someone will even try and breed her.’

Yaz’s stomach turned over and she threw up all over him.

* * *

The big-headed man had a brief conversation with his colleague outside the doors of the main hall and Ryan stuck to the shadows, listening intently. They seemed to be discussing transport and the alien was very cross that it wouldn’t arrive until the next day to collect his purchase. He even used that word too, _purchase,_ and Ryan had to hold himself back from grabbing the man by the neck and shaking him until he understood that people weren’t items to be bought.

The conversation afterwards wasn’t that informative and Ryan was debating heading back to the bar to find Graham and Yaz when the alien mentioned the word _Prospect_ and he paused. He’d heard that word a lot, thrown around the music hall by various guests. It seemed to be some kind of company in this part of the galaxy, maybe even the biggest power in the sector and everyone seemed to love and fear it in equal measure. It was also mentioned a lot in association with the word ‘Roback’, that mysterious league of bounty hunters the TARDIS had told them about. 

_What the hell is it?_

The aliens made their way back to the bar and Ryan followed them cautiously, but they only sat on the bar stool, sipping their drinks and talking to some of the other guests.

There was some sort of commotion going on in the middle of the room, where the tables were only just being cleared away for the after-dinner entertainment, and Ryan spotted Mr Fortuno gesticulating widely and apologising to the Zocci who Yaz had gone to speak to. He was wearing new clothes, Ryan noticed, a smart three piece suit that was usually hung up in the costume department behind the stage. It was marginally too large for him and he looked rather comical in it.

‘No no, I believe it was my fault,’ the Zocci said, looking guilty. ‘She’s only a delicate thing, I may have gone into too much detail with her. Please do send her my apologies.’

‘Can I help at all, sir?’ Ryan asked, coming to stand beside Mr Fortuno with his hands clasped gently behind his back in the non-threatening and engaging manner that his boss preferred they all used when these sorts of situations arose, which they inevitably did when the majority of guests were only there to conduct illegal business. Mr Fortuno knew this, of course, but they paid well so he pretended to ignore it.

‘You can go and find Yasmin,’ the man said, flapping his hand dismissively at Ryan. ‘Tell her she can have a break to deal with whatever female malady is plaguing her, but I want her fresh faced and ready to perform in an hour.’

* * *

Ryan found Yaz on the roof of the massive ship as it drifted serenely through space. The rooftop terrace and bar wasn’t open as it was too early in the evening, and Yaz had clearly taken advantage of that as she sobbed over the railing, clutching at her face in despair. She practically fell into his arms when he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and he held her tight as she cried, the force-field protecting them from the vacuum of space shimmering like the surface of a bubble above them, the Trudly Nebula bright and brilliant in the distance.

‘They’ve hurt her,’ Yaz choked out once she was able to speak again. ‘They’ve been torturing her while we’ve been stuck here _doing nothing to help her.’_

‘Hey, that’s not true,’ Ryan said, squeezing her gently. ‘We’ve been looking, investigating yeah? You know it takes time. But we’ve found her now, we’re so close.’

‘We don’t know where she is,’ Yaz said miserably. ‘Only that she’s been bought by some animal who might want to _breed_ with her.’

Ryan suddenly felt himself shake as anger flooded through him. The thought of anyone doing _that_ to the most beautiful and kind being that he’d ever met… The Doctor might not like violence but he would enjoy punching whoever dared to lay a finger on her.

‘This whole time,’ Yaz sobbed, fresh tears falling down her cheeks. ‘This whole time while we’ve been here dancing and singing and wearing these ridiculous outfits they’ve been _hurting_ her. They shot her through her lung! They did it to force her into a healing coma, to see how long it would take her to recover. They’ve thrown her into space, they’ve pumped her full of god knows what, all those awful _tests_ just so they can determine that she has _value._ That they can _sell her.’_

Yaz banged on his chest with her fists, her fingers gripping tightly at the fabric of his uniform. ‘She was always there for us whenever we needed her and now she’s in trouble and she’s hurt and she needs us and we _let her down.’_

‘We’ll rescue her, Yaz,’ Ryan said earnestly, trying to convince himself as well as his inconsolable friend. ‘We will. Those big headed aliens? They’re talking about Prospect. Remember? We keep hearing that name, it must be linked to these Roback lot that the TARDIS told us about. We just need to figure out what it is then we can go get her. Think about how happy we’ll be to see her again, and how happy she’ll be to see us, yeah? Think about giving her a great big hug and then think about the lecture she’s going to give us for going after her in the first place.’

‘I know what it is,’ Graham said, appearing at the entrance to the roof bar, skin ashen and eyes haunted. ‘Prospect. It’s a slave ship, the worst in the universe.’

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

 

There was a thing that Time Lords could do, that they rarely did because it was so exhausting, and it was taking every last inch of the Doctor’s strength to concentrate and to stay awake.

The Doctor would have preferred that the TARDIS was there to help, but her ship was likely back on Earth with her friends, the emergency programs kicking in as soon as she’d been transported away from them. At least they were safe, the last thing she wanted was the three humans caught up in this mess.

But there was something nagging at the back of her mind, a stray thought the TARDIS had had when she’d felt the awful surge of transmat power rip through her, burning her from the inside out. She hadn’t had the strength to try and figure out what it meant at the time, but if she really was being moved somewhere else the next day this may be her only opportunity.

_Help._

It hadn’t felt like helplessness, like the ‘oh gods someone help her’ kind of plea usually associated when a solution was hopelessly out of reach and only divine intervention could come to the rescue. It had felt more like a ‘I’ll help you’ kind of message. Which posed a problem because - if that was indeed the kind of help the TARDIS meant - it was extremely unlikely that her friends were safe, or that her beloved ship was indeed on Earth.

She’d been reaching out for her ship since she’d arrived but couldn’t feel her in her head. It was as though the TARDIS was lying dormant, unable to communicate with her thief.

 _Yaz_ on the other hand, was very much active in the Doctor’s mind.

Sensing her was one thing, actively trying to communicate with her was quite another, and there was a reason that the Time Lords hardly ever tried to do the thing that the Doctor was attempting to do now.

She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her forehead on the top of her knees as she concentrated, the chains jingling around her limbs. She’d shared a psychic link with Yasmin a few weeks prior when an alien race had tried to telepathically take her young friend over and she’d had to step into Yaz’s head to frighten them off. The link was fading but was still there, still hiding away in the back of her mind. Theoretically, if she could find Yaz across the vast infinity of the universe, she may be able to contact her.

Theoretically.

There was a reason Time Lords tended to avoid long-range telepathy. It was _exhausting._

The Doctor closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated.

_Yaz._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a lot of Doctor whump in the next chapter if you're into that kind of thing!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's left me lovely messages! I tend to update chapters before I go to bed and it's the loveliest thing to wake up to in the morning <3


	3. Black Hole Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's midnight and I'm knackered but I wanted to get this chapter out tonight and I'm reaaaaally sorry if there's any typos/grammar issues in it cause it has been a looooong week and it's bed time.  
> There is a bit of Doctor whump in here, but I've pushed the main bulk of it to the next chapter (sorry!) cause it fit with the story better.
> 
> Next chapter things will get moving!

An hour later with her makeup immaculate once more and a new blue dress hugging her frame, Yaz found herself back on stage with the jazz band behind her playing a soft, slow song.

The tables and chairs were gone now and the hall was packed with people moving and dancing slowly, couples holding each other tightly, lost in each other’s eyes. Yaz preferred it this way, it was easier to pretend you weren’t really there when hundreds of people weren’t staring at you. 

The Zocci, his Amazonian security guard and the big-headed aliens had left just before Yaz had gone back on stage, disappearing out the back door and vanishing back to their ships. Graham had successfully managed to eavesdrop on the Amazonian security guard, determining the time and place of the transfer of sale the next evening. All they had to do now was figure out how to get onto the Prospect and rescue the Doctor, if she hadn’t rescued herself of course. Although Yaz would have hoped that after being there for three months she would have come up with something by now.

Ryan was currently mingling around the edges of the dance floor with a tray of drinks, trying to spot anyone else with that strange tattoo of the golden circle and the gun the Zocci had had on his arm. If they could only link it to the Roback League, they’d know they were going in the right direction.

Graham was back behind the bar doing the same thing, whilst also listening out for anyone with a ship that they could use to get to the Prospect the next day, not that they had the first idea where it was but one thing at a time.

_ Yaz. _

The voice was suddenly so clear and loud in her head that Yaz faltered, Ryan glancing up to look quizzically at her from the floor below. She recovered quickly and continued to sing, but there was something pushing at the back of her head and Yaz was surprised to find tears in her eyes. She managed to blink them away quickly, Mr Fortuno wouldn’t be happy if he saw her crying on stage in front of his guests. 

‘Black hole sun, won’t you come and wash away the rain.’

_ Yaz. _

‘Black hole sun, won’t you come, won’t you come.’

Yaz felt a warm rush of something flood through her, her heart pounding in her chest. They may have been apart for three months, she may be halfway across the galaxy and in pain, but that was definitely the Doctor’s voice in her head and Yaz opened her mind to let her in, her heart thundering in her chest at the realisation that her long lost friend was there, communicating with her, feeling what she felt. The sensation was almost too much to bear and she had to fight to keep her breathing and posture under control as she continued her song. 

‘Stuttering, cold and damp, steal the warm wind tired friend.’

Yaz had a miniscule understanding of how the Doctor’s telepathy worked, she knew that it was stronger with touch, but she understood that the Doctor possessed the ability to reach across space and time to contact someone she’d had a link with previously and it was as though she was in Yaz’s head, Yaz could almost feel her watching through her eyes as she sang. 

‘Heaven sent hell away, no-one sings like you anymore.’

It was then that she realised the tears on her cheek weren’t her own. 

There was a brief musical intermission where all Yaz had to do was stand there and sway and she held onto the sensation of the Doctor in her heart, trying to hold her through their link. The problem with telepathy links is they went both ways and even though Yaz could tell the Doctor was trying to hold back, she could still feel her anger, loneliness, pain and desperation. 

_ Where are you? _

_ Are you okay? _

_ Are you on the Prospect? _

_ Yaz, my brilliant Yaz, please tell me you’re okay. _

The music swelled and Yaz picked up the song again but she could still feel the Doctor watching, borrowing her vision to see what she saw and she deliberately sought out Graham and Ryan in the crowd, the Doctor’s relief at seeing her friends safe flooding through her, quickly followed by her worry when she realised they weren’t on Earth. 

‘Black hole sun, won’t you come, and wash away the rain.’

_ Don’t come looking for me. _

_ Of course we bloody will. _

Yaz could feel the link breaking up as the Doctor grew weaker and she clung to it as hard as she could, wrapping her arms around her own body so the Doctor could feel the hug, managing to incorporate it into her movements on stage so it didn't appear out of place.

‘Black hole sun, won’t you come, won’t you come.’

_ Doctor… _

_ Don’t come looking for me, let the TARDIS take you home.  _

_ Be safe, we’re coming.  _

_ Yaz no -  _

Then she was gone and the song ended, Yaz looking down at the floor as the audience applauded her. Her own tears pricked at the edges of her eyes as she tried to forget the emotions the Doctor had felt, that fear and loneliness that crept into her heart and ate away at her soul. 

Mr Fortuno was waiting for her off stage and he nodded his approval. 

‘Very moving performance this evening, Yasmin,’ he told her. ‘Are you feeling okay now?’

‘Yes,’ she replied, looking up at him with strong eyes and a determined expression. ‘I’m so sorry about earlier, I don’t know what came over me.’

‘As long as you’re better now,’ he said, and while his words were kind there was a hint of steel in them. _ If you’re not better, get out of here  _ was the implication and Yaz smiled sweetly at him.

‘I won’t let you down, sir,’ she said, and he nodded in response and walked away, leaving Yaz to wipe the tears from her eyes as she tried to ignore the gentle feeling of hope blossoming in her chest at the sound of the Doctor’s voice, far away but so alive.

* * *

Graham actually enjoyed working at the bar, although he did wish it was under different circumstances where the fate of his friend didn't depend on it.

He’d always enjoyed chatting to people, making new friends, hearing the lives of individuals he’d never interact with otherwise. It’s why he’d loved being a bus driver so much. And even though the clientele he was interacting with here may be slightly different than the bunch he was used to on the buses, they all had their stories to tell and, occasionally, would feed him a vital piece of information that could help in their mission.

Such as the identity of this mysterious ‘Prospect,’ for example. He’d followed the Amazonian security guard to the hallway where she’d barked into her communicator in a language that not even the TARDIS could translate, but he’d heard the word ‘Prospect’ mentioned a few times and it had been a friendly (and slightly drunk, that always worked in his favour) Albarian who had told him what it was.

‘Prospect? It’s a lot of things in this galaxy to be honest. Massive company, buys and sells all sorts of stuff. Lots of smaller divisions to it though, not all of them savoury.’

‘What if I mentioned the Roback League to you?’ Graham had asked, leaning over the bar conspiratorially. ‘The Roback League in relationship to Prospect, what does that mean?’

The Albarian had paled. Actually paled. Graham had only seen that described in stories but to see it actually happen in front of him was quite something.

‘You shouldn’t talk about them here,’ the Albarian had whispered, taking his drink and moving from the bar.

Graham had reached out and grabbed his hand in desperation. 

‘Please,’ he’d begged. ‘My friend is there, she’s in trouble.’

The Albarian had looked at him with eyes filled with so much pity that Graham could hardly stand it.

‘Prospect is a ship,’ he’d said quietly. ‘A massive, massive cargo vessel. Half the occupants in this part of the galaxy work for them, transporting, buying, selling, arranging deals or rendezvous.’

‘And what’s the Roback League?’ Graham had asked, the Albarain immediately shushing him and telling him to keep his voice down.

‘The Roback’s are bounty hunters,’ he’d hissed. ‘They’re one of the smaller unsavoury divisions I mentioned. The Prospect is used for carrying cargo. They’re not overly fussed about  _ what  _ cargo they carry as long as it will fetch a high price. And if your friend is on that ship that means she’s worth a lot to them and you might as well give up now because you won’t ever see her again.’

‘You mean…’ Graham had stammered, and now it was his turn to pale.

‘The Prospect is used as a slave trading ship,’ the other man had said, voice dropping to a whisper. ‘The slaves they carry are so valuable that they can treat them pretty much however they want and still be guaranteed a large payment at the end of it. Your friend is a woman, yes?’

Graham had nodded, not trusting himself to speak and the Albarian looked sorry for him. Truly, heartbreakingly sorry. 

‘She won’t be the same as she was when she left you, I can tell you that for starters,’ he’d said, not unkindly.

‘You mean -’

Graham couldn’t bring himself to say it, though he suspected he knew what the other man was alluring too.

The Albarian had put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ he’d said quietly. ‘But she’s gone, and if she’s what’s keeping you here then you need to get out now before Fortuno drags you into one of his money-making schemes. Get out of this galaxy, mourn your friend, but move on.’

Then he’d walked away, and Graham had been left to find his friends. 

Now though, standing at the bar cleaning the same pint glass over and over again, watching Yaz sing on stage and his grandson deliver a tray of drinks to a raucous bunch of Graskes, Graham felt determination clawing at his insides rather than hopelessness. Sure they were in a tricky spot, but they’d been in tricky spots before and they’d always got out of them. The Doctor needed them and they wouldn’t let her down.

Then Yaz had faltered on stage. 

He looked up at her immediately but she recovered quickly. Something changed about her performance though, she seemed more impassioned, more focused. Ryan looked towards the bar and Graham shrugged, as confused as his grandson was.

It was at that moment that the rough looking blue-skinned blokes in leather jackets sat along the bar started talking about Prospect.

‘... transport arranged for tomorrow afternoon, around reno galactic standard time, make sure you’re there. Docking bay 3, the transport pod is called the “Lurren”. It’s a tiny thing so mind you don’t bring too much stuff with you, alright? It’ll be a squeeze as it is with just the two of us.’

‘Yeah I’ll be there,’ the other bloke said. ‘Need me to bring anything?’ 

‘Nah. We’re just hired hands for this job I think. They’ve got a sale going down, high risk, need backup as a precaution. Bring some guns or something.’

Graham felt a tiny grain of hope start to spread inside his chest.

* * *

That evening couldn’t come soon enough, and the two men gathered in Yaz’s room once the bar was clear, the hall was cleaned and the lights were off. Yaz had just got out the shower and was rubbing her hair dry with a towel, pinning it up into pin curls when Ryan and Graham snuck into her room.

‘Right, we’re on,’ Graham said. ‘Tomorrow afternoon, transport pod called the Lurren is leaving from docking bag 3 for the Prospect. Some sort of high risk sale going on. It’s gotta be the Doc, right?’

‘That’s amazing, grandad!’ Ryan said, grinning his first proper smile in months. 

‘What time is it leaving?’ Yaz asked anxiously, her eyes wide. 

‘Reno GST. What time is that?’

‘It’s around 3pm,’ Ryan said, pulling the GST conversion chart out of his pocket. With so many different species frequenting the bar, it was important to know their different time zones.

‘Everything alright on stage this evening, Yaz?’ Graham asked, remembering the confusion on his friend’s face whilst she sang.

‘TheDoctor’saliveshegotinmyheadandspoketome,’ Yaz blurted out in one go, too excited to spell it out for the two men.

‘Eh?’ Graham asked, at the same time as Ryan said: ‘what?’

‘She’s alive!’ Yaz cried. ‘She used her telepathy, she spoke to me.’

‘Oh god,’ Graham said, hardly even daring to believe that after months of looking for her things were finally starting to come together. ‘Is she alright? What did she say?’

‘It’s not what she said,’ Yaz said, remembering. ‘It’s what she felt. You know telepathy links go both ways, right? She told me not to go looking for her, she said we should get in the TARDIS and go home. But I could  _ feel  _ her, she was frightened and lonely.’

‘She obviously doesn’t know the TARDIS is powered down,’ Ryan said, looking at the two of them. The TARDIS had materialised right in the lower levels of the ship and they’d left her there. No-one went down there and she’d be safe until they could rescue the Doctor and leave.

_ Which might actually be a possibility now,  _ Ryan thought, hope flaring in his chest. 

‘Right, what’s our plan for tomorrow then?’ Graham asked, determined. ‘Cause obviously we’re going to ignore her wishes and go rescue her, yeah?’

‘Defo,’ Yaz said.

‘Absolutely,’ Ryan agreed.

 

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

**X**

 

The Doctor was woken up by a kick to the ribs that immediately made her splutter blood across the wall of the cell, curling in on herself as she panted on the floor.

‘Do you mind?’ she coughed, irritated, trying to cling to the last remnants of Yaz in her mind even as it faded away. ‘I was having a snooze.’

‘Get up,’ the man above her growled. Clearly he hadn’t forgotten how she’d spat in his face. She certainly hadn’t. She healed quickly but not that quick, her eye was still swollen shut and felt hot and heavy on her face. 

‘Why?’ she asked, closing her eye again. ‘What’s the point? You’re only going to torture me again.’

The man leant down until he was squatting above her, his ugly face so close to hers she could smell the god awful stench coming off of him. His name was Raxion, as she’d discovered pretty early on, and he seemed to have taken an extreme prejudice to her. Not that that was surprising, she could rub people up the wrong way sometimes. 

‘I can do a lot worse than torture you,’ he threatened, voice low, one hand resting on the top of her bare thigh. ‘My bosses reckon your new owners might want to use you to save your race, imagine how they’d react if they found out I’d got there first.’

The Doctor actually laughed, although it hurt her already bruised ribs to do so and she trailed off into a coughing fit as she tried to get her breathing back under control.

‘You lot have no idea where baby Time Lords come from, do you?’ she choked. ‘They’re in for a world of disappointment if that’s what they’re after.’

‘Then you won’t mind if I have a go first,’ Raxion said with a sneer. ‘Since it won’t make a difference.’

His hand started making its way between her legs and she clamped them shut with a roll of her good eye. 

‘Oh change the record already, this song is getting old. You won’t touch me because then you’d have spoilt the “merchandise”. I know I’m going to get one of those god awful physicals tomorrow and if they find out you’ve gone anywhere near me they’ll kill both of us. Although they might question that anyway what with the eye, and the burns, and the general state of “not togetherness” I’m currently in. Don’t ‘spose you’re any good at cutting hair? I never let it get this long. S’really annoying.’ 

‘You’ve got a lot of nerve, anyone ever told you that?’

‘They don’t really stop, to be honest.’ 

Raxion pulled her up by her hair and she couldn’t hide the cry that came out of her throat as he slammed her against the wall. Her hair was longer now after months in captivity without Yaz to trim it for her, and she felt constantly weak and exhausted, her body screaming for rest it wasn’t allowed to have. That combined with the recent long-range telepathy she’d shared with Yaz meant that, on this occasion anyway, she really wasn’t in a position to fight back. Raxion would rape her right now and she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

‘Here’s the deal,’ he told her, grinning that awful diamond-toothed grin she’d come to loathe. ‘You are leaving this dump tomorrow afternoon to go with your new owners. They hate your race as much as I do so I doubt they’ll lose any sleep over your general raggedy appearance. After that you are, thank the gods, no longer my problem. Until that moment though, you  _ are  _ my problem and I can make the remainder of your trip on this ship a living hell. I’ll enjoy it too, you know I will. So sit down,  _ shut up,  _ and do as I say or I will hurt you right here and now, your new owners be damned.’

The Doctor stepped as close to him as she could and, despite the fact she was naked, covered in dirt and dried blood and as thin as she’d ever been, her eyes were bright and full of fury and Raxion had to stop himself from looking away at the intensity of her glare. 

‘As I said the first time we met,’ she said quietly, but her voice full of menace. ‘Go. To. Hell.’

His hand closed around her throat.

 

‘Don’t say I didn't warn you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (sorry again for any spelling/grammar stuff I missed, I did proof read but honestly I'm not awake right now)
> 
> The version of Black Hole Sun that Yaz is singing is the Postmodern Jukebox version!
> 
> Please leave me a comment if you enjoyed it! They make me smile like this :D


	4. Half the world away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it takes me ages to get into the flow and other times I whack out a chapter in 2 hours at work. I mean, it's a lottery really. 
> 
> We're so close to a reunion now! Pack your tissues cause the next chapter is gonna get emotional.
> 
> (Warning for mentions and descriptions of almost-rape in this chapter)

Yaz had weird dreams that night.

First she was a young boy, hiding away under his bed from the terrors that haunted his sleep. Then she was the same boy, but stood on a hill with deep red grass below her and a burning sun above, the sky various hues of red and pink and blue, beautiful and endless. Then she was a man, but not always the same man, although she felt as though she was on the inside. Her dress sense changed with each man she became and, while part of her remained the same, her personality changed and she found new friends with each incarnation as she travelled the universe. She saw things both beautiful and awful, war and suffering, and felt loss and love in both extremes deep in her heart.

And then there was calm and a last goodbye, and in an explosion of light she became someone new. This someone was confused and bewildered, blinking about in confusion as she stumbled in shoes that were too big for her, hair that was too long falling in her face. She saw her reflection and barely had time to admire her new features before there were explosions and alarms and panic and falling…

  … falling

         ...falling.

* * *

Yaz fell out of bed with a thump and a cry, waking up Ryan and Graham who immediately bolted upright ready to fight for their lives or leg it out the door. They each had their own rooms but they’d silently agreed to stay together at night, preferring safety in numbers in an unknown part of the universe. They’d toyed with the idea of going back to their rooms on the TARDIS each night but were worried that someone would spot them sneaking down to the lower depths of the ship and their precious cargo would be discovered.

‘You alright?’ Ryan asked, already at Yaz’s elbow and helping her to stand, carefully sitting her back on the bed as she shivered.

‘Yeah, I think so,’ Yaz said, rubbing her eyes and trying to shake the post-dream fog from her brain. Part of her still felt as though she was falling through the air, the night black around her, the clouds cold and the hard ground unforgiving.

‘Nightmares?’ Graham asked, bringing her a blanket and tucking it around her shoulders, although Yaz was slowly starting to realise that she wasn’t shaking from the cold.

She was frightened, so very frightened. Lost and alone and scared for herself and her friends. She was in pain and torment, every day brought more suffering and only the stars and the Trudly nebula brought her any solace.

Except Yaz didn't feel that herself. It was as though she was feeling it _through_ someone else. The dream she’d had of all the men she’d been, from that frightened little boy hiding away to the woman dazed and confused standing in the dimly lit lighting of her beloved ship, before she was flung through the stars and fell to the Earth below. She could still feel all the emotions that they’d felt but they weren’t her own.

‘Yaz?’ Ryan prompted her, and she realised she’d been staring at her lap in silence as someone else’s memories began to fade away. There was one that stuck with her though, one she couldn’t shake. That reflection in a screen of someone both brand new and ancient, the shoes that were too large and the clothes that was almost clownish on her. She’d know that face anywhere.

‘Not nightmares,’ Yaz said quietly, twisting the blanket in her fingers. ‘Memories. Left over from the telepathic link.’

She looked up at the two men and her eyes were wide and full of sadness, a loss echoing deep inside her that she couldn’t comprehend. That feeling of hopelessness that she refused to acknowledge, determined to go to her end with a smile and a quip and picture of the stars in her mind, burning like the sun despite the bleakness of her situation.

‘She’s so alone,’ Yaz said, and a tear fell down her cheek.

‘We’re going to find her, yeah?’ Ryan said, tucking an arm across her shoulders as Graham took her hand. ‘We’ve got a plan, she can’t be far. We’ll be with her by this time tomorrow and we’ll go back to being a fam.’

‘She’s not far,’ Yaz realised, comprehension dawning as she looked out of her window at the Trudly nebula in front of them. She stood up and ran towards it, pressing her hand against the glass, trying to pretend that the Doctor was on the other side of it. ‘I saw it, in her memories. This is the view the Doctor has. She can see this nebula from her window. Wherever she is, right now, this is what she’s looking at.’

‘Wow,’ Graham said softly. ‘I suddenly feel like this is the closest I’ve been to her in weeks.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ Ryan said quietly, taking Yaz’s hand. ‘The TARDIS was right, she did get us close. After all this time, she’s been seeing what we see.’

* * *

The Doctor was not, unfortunately, seeing the beautiful bright brilliance of the Trudly nebula at that moment. She was seeing stars, but sadly not the kind she was used to.

The grip on her neck was almost impossibly tight and her vision was starting to fade as Raxion squeezed the life from her whilst he tugged at his trousers, pushing them down and forcing her legs apart. His breath was hot against her face and she could hear his muffled grunts as he pressed himself against her body.

She could feel her respiratory bypass system kick in, sending the oxygen it had stored up to her brain to keep her conscious but it wasn’t enough and her legs started to buckle, the weight of the man attacking her the only thing keeping her upright and pressed against the wall.

She felt him push into her and she closed her eyes, waiting for that inevitable sharp shock of pain and discomfort. She wouldn’t make a sound, wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake!’

Suddenly Raxion was ripped off of her and she fell to the ground, coughing, spluttering and gasping for air as her oxygen-deprived lungs burned and her hearts beat impossibly quickly in her chest.

‘How stupid are you?!’

There was a _smack_ and an exclamation of pain and the Doctor blinked blearily up from the ground to see Raxion with a bleeding nose and another Roback, who she recognised as a more senior bounty hunter named Terrak, standing over him with a furious expression.

‘No touching of the merchandise! You’ve beaten her black and blue already, anymore and we might not be able to get her presentable for her buyers tomorrow. Now get out of here and pull your pants up, you look like a _polack.’_

The Doctor recognised the work ‘polack’ and, whilst she couldn’t quite remember what it meant, she knew it was both derogatory and a serious burn.

Terrak regarded her with a haughty expression once Raxion had left the room and the Doctor glared stonily back at him, the scar on his nose still giving her a smug feeling of satisfaction even after all this time. She could feel anger rising up inside her, an anger that she hadn’t felt since the Time War and she was suddenly filled with an immense hatred for the man in front of her, the man that had performed those awful tests on her. He’d ripped screams from her lungs, kicked and punched and spat at her. She still remembered that agonising, splitting, thunderous pain the second day she’d arrived. He’d grabbed at her chest to the cheers of his men and she’d head-butted him in the face, splitting his nose wide open and causing the scar that would be with him for the rest of his life. She’d actually smiled at the expression on his face as he’d staggered back, blood spurting from the wound, the tiny part of the Oncoming Storm left in her fighting to be released.

Then he’d pushed her against the wall, pulled out his gun, and shot her through the lung.

She couldn’t even scream, couldn’t make a sound. Her body pulled her under immediately but not quickly enough for her to miss that hot, burning pain that filled her chest, the sudden breathlessness that left her gasping and the fizz of her body as it prepared itself for regeneration.

She counted herself both lucky and unlucky on that part. She wasn’t ready to give up this face and body yet so not regenerating was a small mercy, but the days of pain and gasping on the cold hard ground like a fish out of water while her lung healed was not. She’d been in a healing coma for two weeks, or so they told her, and had woken up in agony with no food or water and a cellmate who was already dead and rotting in the corner.

So yeah, that scar on his ugly flat face still gave her a bit of a kick every time she saw it.

‘Don’t suppose you feel like telling me where your TARDIS is?’ Terrak drawled, spitting onto the ground next to her. They seemed big on spitting, this lot.

‘If I knew that do you honestly think I’d still be here?’ the Doctor replied, forcing herself back to her feet so he was no longer looking down at her, her eyes dark and narrowed. She hated the rasp in her throat as she spoke, her voice-box bruised and uncomfortable to use.

Terrak pulling the TARDIS key from his coat pocket and tossed it in the air a couple of times, the metal catching the light coming through the door and glinting.

‘We’ve tried all sorts to get your TARDIS here,’ he continued, as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘We’ve tried tracking the artron energy on the key, sending out scouts to look for it, we even held your ridiculous screwdriver to it in case there was a “dog-whistle” setting on it.’

There was, but that wasn’t how it worked and the Doctor was grateful the TARDIS had ignored it. Must have been irritating.

He stepped up close to her, pushing the metal of the key into her side to the point where it was almost breaking the skin.

‘If I find out that you’re lying, and that you do know where the TARDIS is, I’ll go after Yaz. I’ll bring Yaz here, and I’ll rip them apart in front of you.’

The Doctor’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t know who Yaz was, couldn’t possibly.

‘Listening now, are we?’ Terrak said with a smirk, withdrawing the key and tucking it back into his pocket. ‘Remember the Verzion virus we gave you?’

How could she forget _that_ particular test? They’d pumped her full of the stuff to stimulate a response from her ectospleen and, when she wasn’t rolling around clutching her stomach in agony and sweating blood through her skin, she’d been having nightmares filled with torment and horror that left her gasping for air and sobbing uncontrollably.

‘Amazing what people say when they’re delirious,’ Terrak said with an unpleasant smile. ‘Better get thinking about where your TARDIS might be, or there won’t a hole left in the universe that Yaz can hide in.’

 _Oh gods, Yaz,_ the Doctor thought, collapsing back onto the floor once Terrak had gone. _What have I done?_

* * *

The morning shift at the bar was probably the most relaxed. There was a jazz pianist playing and all Yaz, Graham and Ryan had to do was act as waiters for the patrons who had come in for breakfast, or perhaps a glass of something before heading off to start their day.

The blue-skinned blokes that Graham had overheard talking about the Prospect last night slunk back towards the bar, obviously hungover as one of them tried to clamber up onto the bar stool and slipped, falling to the ground instead and exposing the skin on his forearm where the mark of the Roback League was there for all to see.

There was a vague plan for how they were going to get onto their ship, and as Yaz took to the stage to sing a soft song with the pianist she spotted Graham behind the bar, fiddling with the cap of a bottle of rum and handing a tray of drinks to Ryan.

‘I would like to leave this city, this old town don’t smell too pretty and I can feel the warning signs running around my mind.’

Sometimes, the appropriateness of the lyrics that Yaz sung surprised even her.

Mr Fortuno, in an attempt to make the jazz bar more of a multi-cultural establishment, encouraged his performers to sing songs from their planets of origin, preferring a wide range of different tunes from across the universe to keep his guests entertained. Yaz’s favourite was the fast-paced gypsy style music from the Romazium Empire that never failed to get everyone on their toes and dancing, while Ryan preferred the heavier rapping of the Zanacks who did the DJ set 2am-3am every Friday night. The ship was styled as a jazz bar but Mr Fortuno knew that there was always more money to be made.

‘You can’t give me the dreams that are mine anyway. You’re half the world away.’

She spotted Ryan delivering the tray of drinks to the Robacks who downed them immediately and called out loudly for another, almost knocking the tray out of Ryan’s hands.

He turned to her and winked. Phase 1 of their plan was ago.

‘You’re half the world away.’

Only two phases left before they saw their friend again.

Hopefully.

Getting away from the bar at the appointed time was the hardest part, as the three of them each had to make their exit away from the watchful eye of Mr Fortuno to head down to the docking bay where the ships were stored, the massive room the size of three aircraft carriers shoved together with vessels of all shapes and sizes parked against the walls. Graham has stashed some disguises - stolen from lost and found - behind a computer terminal and they changed quickly, pulling hoods up over their heads and keeping their faces down as they made their way through the hanger.

Docking bay 3 was shoved full of ships but fortunately it didn’t take long to find the Lurren, the small transport vessel having one last look over by the on-board engineers. The three humans hid behind another ship until they spotted the two Roback’s staggering over to it, completely wasted and giggling to each other as they stumbled into the vessel, waving away the engineers.

Yaz looked at the two men and they nodded. It was go time. Time for Phase 2.

* * *

The Doctor had come to dread the physicals the Robacks routinely performed on her, it was what allowed them to treat her the way they did. They could hit her, break her, punch her and bruise her as much as they wanted and be able to do it all over again after a physical.

She tried to stay cheery; calling out to people she passed in the hallways as she was dragged through them by two guards.

‘Loving the hat! Shame about the bloodstain. Did you have to pay extra for it? Oh hey man! Looking forward to having you break my arm again later. Milo wass _uuup._ How’s the family? Do they know you murder people for a living? Cool cool cool.’

Compared to the dark, dankness of her cell, the procedure room was bright and clean and the smell of bleach and other cleaning products got up the Doctor’s nose as they strapped her down to the couch, shining a bright light in her face that made her wince.

‘Who did that to her eye?’ Loran - the medic in charge of keeping the prisoners in good condition ready to be sold – complained, pressing his fingers into the puffy skin and making her bite back a cry of pain before it left her lips.

‘Raxion,’ one of the guards grunted and Loran muttered something unpleasant, shuffling away to his tray of instruments.

Her eye was still swollen shut and, while she hadn’t caught sight of her reflection in months, she could imagine how it looked. She dreaded to think how the rest of her looked. In a way she was almost glad she wasn’t going to see her fam again, she wouldn’t want them to see her like this. But she also missed them so much that she could feel the pain of being ripped away from them like a stab in her hearts at night, and sometimes it was all she could do to not give herself over to the panic and agony inside her.

‘Someone needs to teach him how to keep his temper,’ Loran said, coming back to the table with a silver pronged fork in his hand that the Doctor recognised all too well. It generated an electrical impulse that sped up healing around the affected area, but it looked and felt like a miniature cattle prod. She had similar ones on the TARDIS that were pain-free and worked much quicker. The one’s the Robacks had were broken, out of date and were more likely to cause more damage.

There was nothing in this room that was comforting for the Doctor, nothing she could look at to take her mind off what was coming next. In the corner was the treadmill they’d forced her to run on, keeping her going with sharp electric shocks until she’d collapsed, twitching and spasming on the floor with her hearts beating so quickly she’d felt one of them stutter and stop before restarting again a few moments later. She’d been locked in the cage on the other side of the room while her ectospleen filtered the Verzion virus out of her body, lost to the hallucinations and the pain the disease had inflicted on her.

And, apparently, calling out for Yaz.

In a way, she’d almost enjoyed being shoved out of the airlock and into space. If it wasn’t for the rough piece of chain around her ankle so her captors could pull her back in she would have been able to pretend that she was back with her fam and her ship, the TARDIS behind her as she hung in the vastness of space with the stars shining brightly around her, maybe Yaz sat on the roof and Ryan playing with the custard cream dispenser, Graham asking her to name every star. She did it anyway, softly in her head as her respiratory bypass system used up the last of her oxygen.

_Lura, Ola, Mencia, Grenoria…_

It started with her eyes. She felt them prickle before they suddenly began to burn all at once and she opened her mouth and gasped for air, clawing at her throat as her body spun in space, her mind feeling like it was about to burst, her lungs screaming at her to take a breath.

Time Lords can survive roughly ten minutes in space before the damage is so severe that not even regeneration will save them, she’d been out there for about 9 ½.

Fortunately, it was at that point that she felt the tug on her ankle signifying that she was being pulled back inside, her body left in a heap on the floor as the airlock closed behind her with a hiss, her skin blue and frozen from the temperature in space and her eyes red and bloodshot, everything a blurred mess that she couldn’t focus on, her heart and lungs still burning in her chest as she greedily gulped all the oxygen the Prospect had to offer.

The sharp, sudden, electrical pain in her eye knocked her out of her memories and the Doctor screamed as Loran rammed the instrument into the soft, swollen tissue.

‘Will you stop that noise I’m trying to help you,’ he muttered above her, pressing harder, and the Doctor clenched the sides of the bed so tightly she felt bits of it crumble off in her hands as the electricity coursed through her.

At least her fam was far away and wouldn’t be able to hear her scream.

* * *

‘So here’s the thing,’ Ryan said, stepping out in front of the two Robacks with his hands in his pockets and a cheeky grin on his face. ‘We really need to get to the Prospect and we need you to give us a lift.’

‘Sure thing!’ one of them said, opening the doors to the ship and settling down behind the controls, his partner joining him in the co-pilot seat. ‘It’s going to be a bit of a squeeze so I hope you don’t mind cosying on up back there.’

‘Not a problem at all,’ Graham said, clambering into the small ship. ‘One last thing - we’re going to need you to not tell anyone that you gave us a lift, that you had anyone wanting to leave this place for the Prospect, or that you saw us at all.’

‘We also need you to completely forget what we look and sound like,’ Ryan added.

‘And if this thing has a black box recorder we’re going to need you to turn that off and destroy any evidence that we were on board,’ Yaz said.

‘Consider it done,’ the co-pilot said, and then the ship was launching into the air and flying towards the now open shuttle-bay doors, the infinite mass of space huge and black in front of them, the Trudly nebula swirling in its colours, suspended in the vacuum.

Yaz pressed her hand to the window as the shuttle pulled shakily away from what had been their home for the past few months, the gaudy lights of the jazz bar spaceship on full and impossible to miss if you were passing this way.

‘Huh, just realised I didn’t know the ship had a name before,’ Graham said, noting the scarlet letters appearing on the side.

‘Stupid name,’ Ryan said. ‘And not very original. “The Liqueur Lounge”, I mean come on.’

‘At least it’s honest,’ the co-pilot Roback offered. ‘I had way too much last night, heads banging this morning.’

‘Oh that’s our fault, mate,’ Graham said. ‘We slipped some Hemax into your drink this morning. You know - the stuff that makes you more suggestable? It alters your brain chemistry and one of the side effects is a headache. You’ll be right as rain in the morning.’

‘Oh okay,’ came the response.

Graham grinned at his two friends and Yaz felt a rush of emotion deep inside her as the lights of the Liqueur Lounge were left behind, the small shuttle speeding up as it sped through space towards the nebula. They were so close now, so close to the Doctor.

They just hoped she was still in one piece when they got to her. Only Phase 3 to go.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everyone's lovely comments! You're all just so lovely and I can't deal ^_^


	5. Measles and Polio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's rescue time! 
> 
> We're almost at the end now, probably only a chapter or two remaining! Thank you so much to everyone for sticking with it, we will get through this hiatus!

The Prospect was massive, at least ten times larger and uglier than the Liqueur Lounge. It was all grey and black and square, like a floating tower block, and Yaz felt a shiver go down her spine at the sight of it hanging in space, the name painted onto the side in dark green letters with that familiar logo next to it, the Trudly Nebula closer now and sending out soft tendrils of pale light. 

Graham was leaning over the pilot’s seat, watching as the Robacks navigated the shuttle towards the ship and asking the occasional question about the controls. It seemed similar to a dodgem car at the fairground. One button to go, one to stop, and steer with the wheel.

‘This piece of junk is a mining shuttle,’ the pilot said. ‘Needs to be easy to use, no brain cells required really.’

‘What does that logo mean?’ Ryan asked their two surprisingly accommodating pilots, still stoned off their minds on Hemax and grinning like loons. ‘The circle with the gun?’

‘S’not a circle,’ one of them said, happy to explain. ‘S’a coin, gold piece. Bazillium currency, only payment the Roback League will accept cause it’s the most valuable in the galaxy. Interest rate on it never goes down, only up up up. Gold coin with the gun – arms for hire.’

‘What kind of things are you hired for?’ Graham asked, already dreading the answer.

‘All sorts. Executions, assassinations, kidnapping, murder, pretty much everything you’d need a gun for. Course the Robacks also use Prospect like a market hall, kind of like an auction house for weapons and stuff. They’re all about generating that extra income.’

‘Why were you on the Liqueur Lounge?’ Yaz asked, curious.

‘Well, me and Polio here,’ - the pilot jerked a finger at his partner - ‘We’re sort of freelance Robacks, extra security, that sort of thing. Mr Fortuno on the Lounge allows Roback transactions to go down on his ship cause he knows it makes him a lot of money, he gets paid for us to use his bar as a meet-up zone.’

‘And you’ve been hired as extra security on the Prospect?’ Ryan asked. ‘What for?’

Polio positively bristled in excitement which, for a 6 foot tall blue-skinned alien built like a rugby player, was quite a sight. 

‘Aw no-one ever asks about us, do they, Measles?’

‘They don’t!’ Measles agreed, and Yaz wondered if all Roback names were similarly bizarre. Or even if polio and measles were diseases that existed all the way out here. ‘You guys are lovely; we should bring you around more often.’

‘Extra security?’ Graham prompted. 

‘Oh yeah,’ Polio said. ‘They’ve got a sale going down today. Some Time Lord with a rep. Apparently the Daleks refer to her as “The Oncoming Storm” so they’re being extra cautious.’

‘The  _ Daleks  _ call her that?’ Yaz asked, astonished.

‘Oh you’ve met them, have you? Lovely bunch aren’t they. I don’t think this Time Lord will do much to be honest, probably just being over-cautious for the sake of it. I was there a few weeks ago and she was in a right state, couldn’t even stand up.’

Ryan’s stomach turned and he clenched the edge of his seat so tightly his knuckles went white, beside him he saw Yaz and Graham looking pale. 

‘What’s her name?’ Graham asked, quietly, and Measles frowned.

‘She’s got a weird name ain’t she, Polio?’

‘They all do,’ Polio agreed.

‘Something medical…. The Nurse? The Dentist? The Chiropodist?’

‘The Doctor?’ Ryan whispered.

‘Yeah! That’s it. The Doctor. Massive bounty on her head, pulling her was a stroke of good luck. She’s getting sold to the Voglars. I think they’re after her regenerative capabilities.’

‘Do the Voglars have massive heads, by any chance?’ Graham asked.

‘Yeah, humongous. You spotted them at the lounge too then? Not the nicest bunch. They’ll probably rip her apart cell by cell. A Time Lord’s body is a miracle, no wonder they paid so much for her. We’re arriving now so keep quiet, I wouldn’t want security to know we were smuggling you on board.’

* * *

Back in her cell, the Doctor curled up into a ball, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her eye was worse now and it burned and throbbed. She did her best to ignore it but the pain was strong and her head swum with the drugs they’d given her to keep her docile and quiet, it was becoming harder to stay conscious.

There was the sound of feet running in the corridor and voices but the Doctor hardly heard it. She was in her own little world, sat around the library fireplace with her fam, safe in the TARDIS. Yaz was pressed against her side and she could hear the younger woman singing quietly, her voice soft and soothing.

_ You’re a mean one, Mr Grinch. _

A voice from outside her cell yelled something and the Doctor sleepily opened her good eye before closing it again, allowing the drugs to pull her under. 

Funny, that had almost sounded like Ryan.

* * *

‘Right, stay here for a few minutes,’ Measles said once their little shuttle had docked in the Prospect’s loading bay. ‘Right now we’re on level 3, zone X. Your friend is being held on level 45, zone D and I think she’s on cell block 37. Not a clue which cell number she’s in but she’ll be around there somewhere. There are spare uniforms in that locker over there, you see it? You shouldn’t be questioned if you’re wandering around wearing them. Just be careful, and thanks for coming along.’

‘Cheers guys,’ Graham said, giving Measles and Polio an appreciative nod.

‘Don’t forget to forget us immediately,’ Ryan told them as they filed off the ship, the three humans staying on board and ducking down so they couldn’t be spotted through the windows. 

The uniforms were a little too big for them but hopefully not enough to draw attention, and Ryan opened his backpack to check he had everything he needed for phase 3 of the plan.

‘Phase 3, go through it again,’ Yaz said quietly. 

‘I’m going to stay here for a quick getaway,’ Graham said. ‘I’m confident I can fly that shuttle. Besides, you heard what Measles said: “No brain cells required”.’

‘I’m going with you to find and rescue the Doctor,’ Ryan said to Yaz. ‘Then we’ll bring her down here, meet up with Graham and fly back to the Lounge to get the TARDIS.’

‘Stay out of sight,’ Yaz said to Graham. ‘Just in case.’

‘I don’t think it’s me you have to worry about,’ Graham said, looking pointedly at their uniforms. ‘Be careful.’

‘Stop fussing over us, grandad,’ Ryan said, rolling his eyes. ‘We’re gonna be fine.’

‘Funny,’ Graham said. ‘You sounded just like the Doc then, usually before something goes terribly wrong.’

‘Won’t be long, hopefully,’ Yaz said, and she and Ryan started to head towards the stairs at the other end of the room. 

‘Hey, guys?’ Graham called after them, and they turned to face him. ‘Bring her home, yeah? Just… bring her home.’

* * *

Fortunately no-one watched them as Ryan and Yaz slowly but surely made their way to level 45 Zone D, their uniforms helping them to blend into the crowd. The Robacks appeared to come from all across the universe and there was aliens of all varieties whispering to each other, crowding the corridors and making it easier for the two humans to sneak by undetected.

‘They all look anxious,’ Ryan said under his breath. 

‘Good, means they’re not looking at us,’ Yaz shot back.

Sudden quiet fell and they paused, hearts in their mouths, terrified they’d been discovered, but it was only the Voglars being escorted through the corridors, their robes trailing along the floor, hands pressed together, heads pointed and eyes slanted. It was the same pair from the bar, male and female, silent as they were taken to the appointed meeting place to collect their purchase.

‘Are we too late?’ Yaz whispered once they’d gone and the chatter in the corridor had gone back up to a level where they couldn’t be overheard.

‘No,’ Ryan said, checking his watch. ‘We’ve got 15 minutes. As the Doctor would say, better get a shift on.’

The entrance to Zone D was at the other end of the corridor and two guards were positioned outside it. Fortunately they were distracted and their heads were watching the Voglars walk away, allowing the two imposters to sneak behind them and through the door.

Yaz’s heart sank at the sight that greeted them. Zone D was one massive room with too many levels to count, cells lining each wall stretching up as high as the eye could see. There must have been thousands, each level accessible by a metal spiral staircase. 

‘It’s alright,’ Ryan said reassuringly. ‘She’s in cell block 37, yeah? Look, the walls have numbers on them. We’ve come out on cell block 25 so we need to go up.’

Their boots thudded on the stairs as they ran up them, pausing to check the number on the walls. There were no guards here but somehow that wasn’t surprising. Yaz had overheard some of the Robacks in the corridors complaining that the guards had been pulled as extra security for the transaction that was taking place that afternoon, mercifully leaving Zone D relatively unprotected.

‘Block 37,’ Ryan said, out of breath. ‘You start one end and I start at the other?’

Yaz nodded and they split up, aware that time was running out, peering through the little slits in the door to see if they could spot their friend. 

Ryan checked his watch, five minutes left before the transaction was due to take place. He was praying that, if she really was that big of a security risk, they would leave her in the cell for as long as possible, not risking taking her out any earlier in case she tried something.

A flash of blonde hair caught his attention and Ryan felt his heart stop as his boots skidded to a halt, peering helplessly through the slit in the cell door. She was naked, filthy and unconscious but was unmistakingly the Doctor. 

Yaz came sprinting as soon as he yelled and she cried out when she saw their friend, she thought she saw the Doctor’s fingers twitch but that could have been a trick of the light.

‘Hurry,’ Yaz pleaded with Ryan who was already fiddling with the clasp on his bag, tugging the flat circular disk out of it; another gift from the Liqueur Lounge. 

He pressed the codebreaker against the lock on the door, the disk clicking and whirring, Yaz and Ryan stepping back and covered their ears. 

There was a small  _ puft  _ sound, a little plume of smoke, and the door swung open, allowing the two humans to race inside to their friend, Yaz falling down the ground on her knees and gripping the Doctor’s shoulder tightly while she spoke to her quickly, trying to rouse her. Ryan tugged off the long Roback coat he’d stolen to drape over her. The cell was freezing and she was icy to the touch. He pressed his fingers against her wrist and felt the slow, sluggish beats of her hearts, not quite in sync, not quite strong enough.

Then they heard a door open and voices coming slowly towards them.

‘Shit!’ Yaz whispered. ‘What do we do?’

‘You’re lucky the Voglars don’t care what state she’s in,’ Terrak muttered angrily to Raxion as they headed towards the cell. ‘You can’t beat up every prisoner who annoys you.’ 

‘Not every prisoner,’ Raxion growled in response. ‘Just her.’

_ There’s only two of them,  _ Ryan mouthed at Yaz, a silent plan forming between them.

‘Yaz?’ the Doctor muttered incomprehensibly from the floor, her eyes remaining shut but her face contorting into a confused frown.

‘Ssh,’ Yaz whispered urgently to her. ‘Just hold on a little bit longer.’

Yaz and Ryan stood up and hid on either side of the doorframe, out of sight of the two Robacks who were heading towards them, carefully and silently shutting the door, locking themselves inside with the Doctor.

‘Couldn’t sleep last night, as soon as she’s off the ship the better,’ Terrak muttered as he reached the door and peered through the slits. ‘Oh for crying out loud, where did she get a coat from?’

He reached out a hand to enter his combination code on the lock panel.

The panel that had a codebreaker still attached to it.

‘What the…?’

Terrak threw the door open and Yaz and Ryan leapt into action, grabbing the Roback’s guns from their holsters and pointing it at them, standing in the doorway so Terrak and Raxion couldn’t make a break for it.

‘I’m guessing that these guns don’t have a stun setting?’ Ryan asked, aiming it at Raxion’s head.

‘No,’ the Roback responded. ‘They certainly don’t. Shouldn’t be an issue though because I don’t believe that either of you have the courage to shoot us.’

Yaz fixed him with a glare so strong that Ryan was almost frightened of her, and when she spoke her voice dripped with barely restrained fury. 

‘You hurt my friend,’ she said quietly. ‘You beat her, tortured and abused her, and you think I wouldn’t shoot you.’

The cocky bravado in Terrak’s eyes faltered just a little as he realised the position he was in.

‘Ryan, grab the Doctor,’ Yaz said, and Ryan wordlessly handed her the other gun and bent over his friend, carefully lifting her up into his arms, the Doctor limp and unmoving under the heavy leather coat she was covered in.

‘You’ll never get her out of here,’ Raxion said, an amused smirk on his face. ‘Security is too heightened, you’ll never make it.’

‘Funny thing about travelling with the Doctor,’ Yaz said, once Ryan was safely out of the room. ‘You start to recognise different technologies. Like the internal teleport attached to your belt. Must be a nightmare to get around this ship, nice to have one of those. Kick it over.’

Wordlessly, Raxion did just that, and Yaz kicked it over to Ryan with a nudge of her shoe, slowly starting to back out of the room, her guns still trained on the two Robacks.

‘You won’t make it out of here alive,’ Terrak growled at her, and Yaz slammed the door shut in his face, tugging the codebreaker off of the panel, the lock re-engaging with a satisfying  _ click. _

‘Watch me,’ she hissed at him.

Ryan had lain the Doctor down and had the teleport in his hand, looking up at Yaz with a concerned expression. 

‘I hope you know how to use this thing,’ he told her. ‘Cause I don’t think the Doctor is going to be able to help us.’

‘We’ll figure it out,’ Yaz said, panicking when she noticed the door open and more Roback flood in, guns raised and shouting, obviously noticing the absence of both Terrak and Raxion and the product to be sold, their faces contorted in rage.

‘Run!’

Ryan lifted the Doctor up again and they sprinted towards the stairs, but he faltered at the top and looked at Yaz, terror in his eyes.

‘I can’t, Yaz,’ he said. ‘Not the stairs. I haven’t got my hands free, I’ll drop her.’

Yaz looked up at the approaching Robacks, at Ryan’s worried face, and then down at the Doctor who remained blissfully unaware of the flaws in her rescue attempt. They wouldn’t make it to the door, it was too far away and the Robacks were almost upon them.

‘Right, new plan,’ Yaz said. ‘Head towards that empty cell!’

They ran towards it, the sound of boots and shouts on their heels. 

‘Why aren’t they shooting at us?’ Ryan panted, the Doctor starting to feel heavy in his arms.

‘Can’t risk shooting her probably!’ Yaz replied. She smashed the lock panel on the cell door with the butt of her gun and it fizzed and turned red, sparking as she pulled it close once they were inside, the lock engaging and locking them in.

‘Now we’re trapped!’ Ryan protested, sinking to his knees with the Doctor still cradled tightly against his chest. The men outside pounded furiously on the door and yelled obscenities at them through the slit. 

‘They wouldn’t be able to get in even if they do have the codes,’ Yaz said, joining him on the floor and pulling the teleport from his pocket. ‘The locks broken, it should give us time to figure out how to use this.’

It looked like a compact mirror but was the same size as a CD, and when she flipped it open she saw rows upon rows of tiny keys with various markings on them, a jumble of numbers and letters with a big blue button in the middle of it. 

She looked down at the Doctor who was twitching and frowning in her sleep, as though she (like Ryan) was also judging the stupidity of Yaz’s plan.

‘Kind of need you to help us here,’ Yaz said, squeezing the Doctor’s hand and, unbelievably, her good eye opened and fixed itself on Yaz’s.

‘Oh, hey, long time no see,’ the Time Lord said groggily.

‘Hey, you,’ Yaz said softly, a hand in the blonde’s hair. It was longer now, almost past her shoulders and in urgent need of a trim. Yaz felt tears streak down her face and the Doctor suddenly looked impossibly sad.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ Ryan asked. ‘You’re safe now; we’re here to rescue you.’

‘S’okay,’ the Doctor said quietly, sorrow in her voice. ‘I know you’re not really here.’

‘We are!’ Yaz insisted, squeezing her hand tightly. ‘We really are. We’ve come all this way to save you but we’ve got a bit stuck, we don’t know how this works,’ she waved the teleport in the air but the Doctor ignored it.

‘You’re just the drugs or whatever it is they gave me,’ the Doctor said, making a  _ bleurgh  _ face. ‘My mouth tastes like olives. S’disgusting.’ 

‘Doctor,’ Yaz said gently, cradling her friend’s face between her hands. ‘It’s us. We’re here. We came back for you.’

A flicker of doubt crossed the Doctor’s face before she shook her head with a frown, as though she was trying to ignore it. 

‘You’re not my Yaz.’

‘Humour us then,’ Ryan said as Yaz’s face crumpled. ‘If we really are a hallucination then you won’t mind telling us how the teleport works.’

‘Teleport?’

Ryan took it out of Yaz’s hands and held it up in front of the Doctor’s face for her to see.

‘Oh, it’s easy. The numbers match up to places in the ship. You just enter the floor and zone you want to end up in and hit the blue button. Simples.’ She giggled. ‘Like the meerkat.’ 

‘You’re so stoned,’ Ryan said with a soft smile and the Doctor grinned weakly up at him.

‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘It’s the only thing that’s made any of this bearable.’

‘We came in on level 3, zone X,’ Yaz said, concentrating as she entered the co-ordinates. She held it up for the Doctor to approve. ‘Like that?’

‘Amazing,’ the Doctor said, smiling at her. ‘Even as a hallucination you’re still brilliant.’

‘You ready, Ryan?’ Yaz asked, taking his hand.

The noise from the door was suddenly louder and more urgent and Ryan nodded quickly. 

‘Yep, ready, let’s give this a go.’

Yaz hit the button. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Simples' is a catchphrase from a TV advert for a internet comparison website called compare the meerkat. It's both so irritating and hilarious. 
> 
> Please leave me a comment if you liked it!


	6. To Bodly Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rescue continued! 
> 
> I need you to picture this chapter as an epic space battle (think Star Trek Beyond) cause I'm not convinced the way it looks in my head is how I've described it.

Graham had mostly stayed on board their little shuttle while Ryan and Yaz went to find their friend, but he had poked his head around when he was sure there was no-one left in the hanger. One of his favourite parts of space travel was looking at all of the different futuristic ships. He was a big fan of Star Trek and Star Wars (although watching either with the Doc had proved impossible, she just would  _ not  _ stop pointing out all the inaccuracies) and enjoyed comparing their ships with the ones in front of him now. The Doc had taken him to a space rally once, when Yaz and Ryan were in bed and he couldn’t sleep. They’d stood in the doorway of the TARDIS, suspended in space with the rest of the spectators, munching their way through a bag of popcorn as the ships sped past them, each leaving a colourful trail of exhaust fumes in their wake. The Doctor had been in her element that night, identifying all the different ships, talking a thousand miles a minute about their propulsion systems and the different engines they used. She’d shone like millions of stars in the sky.

Graham felt a pang deep in his chest. He was trying to be the grown up, trying to be strong for Ryan and Yaz, but the thought of anyone harming someone as extraordinary as the Doctor lit a rage in him that he couldn’t suppress. It was the same rage he’d felt when he’d faced Tim Shaw, except this time the Doc wasn’t there to remind him of who he really was, on the inside. Since meeting her he’d started aspiring to be someone like her. Someone so kind, and bright, and caring. Someone who would always put the needs of others in front of her own, someone who was always there for you, even if you didn't know you needed her. 

Then a familiar sleeve cuff caught his eye.

There were boxes stacked along the wall of the hanger, hundreds of them, some with labels and some without. This particular box wasn’t labelled but he’d recognise that coat sleeve anywhere.

Checking the coast was clear, Graham quickly jogged over to the box and opened it, his heart sinking at the sight.

The Doctor’s clothes, covered in blood. 

There was a burnt hole in her striped t-shirt that went through to the back, and her coat was filthy and stained with red. One of her suspenders was torn and a boot was missing its lace, her trousers ripped beyond repair. 

There was something else too, in a bag at the bottom of the box and Graham knew instinctively what it was as soon as he touched it. 

There was a label on the outside of the bag and Graham pulled out the Sonic Screwdriver and held it tightly in his hand as he tried to decipher the note, waiting for the TARDIS translation circuits to kick in, but they never did. He pressed the button on the tool experimentally but nothing happened, no reassuring  _ whirr,  _ no comforting orange glow.

Graham had just finished loading the box of the Doctor’s belongings into their shuttle when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and the smell of ozone filled the room. With a burning flash of light and shocked gasps and yelps, Yaz, Ryan and the Doc flashed into existence in front of him, Yaz holding a circular disk and Ryan on the ground with the Doctor cradled against his chest, staring confusingly around her. 

‘We need to get out of here, now!’ Yaz cried, pulling herself to her feet and gripping the Doctor’s arm. 

‘I got her,’ Ryan said, carefully lifting her up, the Doctor’s eyes half shut and her head lolling against his shoulder.

‘Oh god, you did it!’ Graham cried, hardly daring to believe it. After all this time, after all these months, they had their friend within their reach. Literally, in Ryan’s case.

‘We’re not out of the woods yet,’ Yaz yelled, heading towards the cockpit and starting the ignition sequence.

‘Even felt like a teleport,’ the Doctor mumbled, eyes sliding shut and Ryan laid her carefully down on the floor of the shuttle, adjusting the coat over her so she was covered in it before closing the shuttle doors and joining Yaz at the cockpit, the engine rumbling as the ship steadily rose into the air.

‘Doc,’ Graham breathed, finding her hand under the coat and squeezing it tightly. She was cold and her eyes opened slightly, frowning at him. Well, one of her eyes opened at any rate, the other was black and blue and swollen shut. She was thinner too, he could almost see the bones in her face and her hair was longer, her skin pale, lips tinged with blue.

‘S’you,’ she slurred.

‘Yeah, it’s me, Doc,’ Graham said, tears in his eyes. ‘You’re safe now.’

She looked confused and her good eye looked around, as though she was trying to take in every detail.

‘This even looks real,’ she said. 

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Graham asked the other two. 

‘She’s been drugged,’ Ryan explained, wrestling with the stiff controls. ‘She thinks we’re a hallucination.’

‘We’re not, Doc,’ Graham said, eyes shining. ‘I promise you, we’re real. We came back for you.’

‘But I told you not to,’ she said, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Graham wiped it away with his thumb and gave her hand another squeeze. ‘The TARDIS was meant to take you home.’

‘The TARDIS had other ideas about that,’ Graham said. 

Her eye was foggy, those familiar green eyes not quite visible, and Graham couldn’t tell if what he was saying was going in, or if she even believed that they weren’t a hallucination. He pulled her sonic out of its bag and pressed it into her hand, the Doctor raising it carefully up to her face. She looked up at him, and it felt as if she was really seeing him for the first time, though the suspicion was still clear on her face.

‘Graham?’ she said quietly. 

‘I’m here, Doc.’

There was a commotion coming from the front of the shuttle, and Graham looked up to see Ryan and Yaz panicking, flipping switches and pressing buttons. Their little ship was heading towards the shuttlebay doors.

Which were closed.

‘We did  _ not  _ come all this way to get beaten by a pair of doors!’ Yaz yelled angrily. 

An alarm went off in the ship, high pitched and loud and the Doctor started to panic and hyperventilate.

‘This isn’t real, this can’t be real, no no no, oh gods why are you doing this to me.’

‘Doc, hey,’ Graham said, reaching for her again but she shuffled backwards away from him, crying out in pain. She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them, hands over her ears as she rocked back and forth. 

‘Not real, not real, not real.’

‘I’ve got this,’ Yaz said, suddenly above him. ‘You go help Ryan. There’s got to be a remote switch or something to open those doors.’

She knelt down in front of the Doctor, not touching her but holding a hand carefully above her knee. 

‘Listen to me, Doctor,’ Yaz said quietly. ‘I know you think we’re not really here, I know you think you’re hallucinating but I promise you, I  _ promise  _ you that we’re real. And if you want to believe that we’re not that’s fine, but we are going to get you out of here anyway and I swear that on my life.’

The Doctor peered up at her, tears streaking her face. She looked terrified and it took everything Yaz had to not touch her, wanting to give her space, but the Doctor took her hand anyway, stroking the skin on Yaz’s palm in wonder and anguish.

‘You feel so real,’ she whispered.

Yaz cupped the Doctor’s cheek gently. ‘I am real,’ she whispered. ‘I’m your Yaz.’

‘But you can’t be.’

She heard Ryan’s triumphant ‘found it!’ from behind her and the sound of the Prospect’s shuttle bay doors opening (and the scrape as their shuttle only just cleared it) reminded her of the urgency of their current situation. They had the Doctor, they had their getaway vehicle, but there was still a long way to go before they were safe. 

‘How do I prove it to you?’ Yaz whispered, thumb stroking the Doctor’s wet cheek. ‘How can I make you feel safe?’

‘Do something Yaz wouldn’t do,’ the Doctor whispered. ‘Do something impulsive that I couldn’t make up. If you’re a hallucination then you’re coming out of my mind, out of my memories of how Yaz behaves around me. If you’re real, do something I wouldn’t expect, do something un-Yaz like.’

She was pleading, begging for her friend to be real.

So Yaz leant forward and kissed her. 

She tasted like salt, and dirt, and blood and her lips were cracked and sore but the Doctor responded, closing her eyes and hungrily clinging to Yaz, fingers gripping the other woman’s shirt tightly. Yaz could feel fresh tears falling down her cheeks and she carefully held the Doctor’s face in her hands, mouth moving softly against hers, thumbs stroking the battered skin. It occurred to her that this was probably the first affectionate contact her friend had had in months and that only made Yaz kiss her harder, fingers tangling in the Doctor's hair. 

‘Not sure now is the best time for that,’ she heard Graham mumble to Ryan and the other man shushed him.

‘She’s calming her down, be grateful we don’t have to kiss her.’

When Yaz pulled carefully away the Doctor didn't release her, but her eye was bright and her smile was wide. 

‘My Yaz.’

‘Always,’ Yaz whispered. 

‘You came back for me.’

‘We did.’

A flicker of annoyance crossed the Doctor’s face and Yaz knew what was coming before she said it.

‘ _ Why  _ did you come back for me?’

‘Cause we couldn’t leave you here.’

‘I told you to!’

‘We ignored you! You’re welcome!’

‘Oi! That’s enough, you two,’ Ryan yelled from the cockpit. 

‘Bloody hell that was zero to sixty in no time,’ Graham muttered, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as the shuttle shook around them. ‘I’m sure this bucket handled better when Measles and Polio were flying.’

‘You’ve got the brakes on,’ the Doctor said, and her eye suddenly slid shut as she pitched forwards, Yaz reaching out her hands to catch her. ‘Like the TARDIS.’

‘You leave the brakes on when you fly the TARDIS?’ Ryan asked, and the Doctor mumbled her assent as Yaz lowered her carefully to the ground.

‘Why?’

‘Cause I like the noise.’

‘No wonder it knocks around so much,’ Graham said thoughtfully.

‘Um, guys?’ Ryan said, voice laced with panic.

The three humans looked out of the shuttle’s viewscreen. They were still moving swiftly away from the Prospect but heading straight towards them was a massive ship, the gun turrets on top already moving to point at them.

‘Oh sh-’

A energy pulse went sailing over the shuttle’s roof, impacting the Prospect behind them with a  _ bang  _ and an explosion of light, bits of debris floating through space. Graham successfully swerved to avoid a large chunk of bulkhead before the new ship fired on the Prospect again, and again, and again, chunks of the ship scattered around them, hanging in the vacuum of space. 

‘Who are they?’ Graham yelled. ‘Why are they firing on the Prospect?’

‘Doctor?’ Yaz said, urgently shaking her friend’s shoulder. ‘Need your help here.’

She opened an eye but it rolled back in its socket and she went limp under the coat. Yaz shook her again. 

‘Come on, wake up!’

‘I don’t think she’s gonna help us, Yaz!’ Graham yelled, pushing hard on the accelerator, the ship groaning around them at the effort. 

A stray energy bolt hit the side of their shuttle and it tilted alarmingly, Ryan and Graham fighting to get it back under control, Yaz grabbing the Doctor before she slid across the floor. 

The console began to flash and beep urgently and Graham peered down at it with a grumble of ‘what does it want now?’ A screen appeared resembling a sonar display, similar to ones Ryan had seen in old submarine movies, and hundreds of small fast moving dots appeared around them. 

‘Escape pods!’ Yaz realised as the pods started to fly past their windows, each containing a Roback or two. ‘They’re abandoning ship!’

‘You don’t think they know we’ve got the Doctor in here, do you?’ Ryan suddenly shouted.

‘No, they can’t do!’ Yaz replied. ‘They didn't see us go in or out of it, they probably just think we’re a transport vessel making a break for it.’

‘Who  _ are  _ those guys?’ Graham yelled as the larger ship continued to rain down fire upon the doomed Prospect, the rattling of their little shuttle getting worse as the engines strained and groaned, the explosions in space around them rocking the ship from side to side. 

Then there was a massive flash of light, and everything went white. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DAAAAAAAAAA. Who's firing on the Prospect? Will our heroes manage to get away? Who knows? Do I even know? Theories in the comments! 
> 
> There will be another chapter up soon, have no fear!


	7. A madwoman with a box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the last one and it is going to be RAMMED with cuddles. 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with it and for all the lovely messages I've been getting ^_^
> 
> Also, check out my Tumblr (catchonfirespontaneously) for the AMAZING drawing Ginoodle did of jazz singer Yaz! :D

There was something gently rocking and Yaz could feel rumbling and shuddering underneath her, a low groaning noise in the air and a steady beeping sound coming from somewhere to the left of her. She felt dazed and it took her awhile to remember where she was, the memories slowly fitting together like a jigsaw in her mind. She reached out an arm, feeling around for the Doctor but she wasn’t there and Yaz immediately bolted upright in a panic, a wave of lightheadedness overcoming her and forcing her to drop her head to her chest as she tried to breathe through it. 

‘It’s alright,’ came a voice from the cockpit. ‘You’re fine.’

Yaz looked up, blinking against the fog in front of her vision. It was dark in their little shuttle, and she could make out strips of red emergency lighting on the floor flashing gently. Ryan and Graham were still unconscious, but she could see the steady rise and fall of their chests and they didn't look injured. She looked up, seeking out the owner of the voice, and her heart swelled. 

The Doctor was sat in the pilot’s chair. She’d put on and buttoned up Ryan’s stolen Roback coat and had her hands on the controls, carefully guiding them through space. It was quieter and neither the Prospect nor the ship that had been attacking it was anywhere to be seen. There were no explosions, no bits of debris floating in space, and Yaz couldn’t see any of the escape pods through the windows. She could just about make out the glittering lights of the jazz ship in front of them and they glinted into the Doctor’s eyes. Her swollen eye was open but looked bloodshot and Yaz could make out beads of sweat on her forehead. It was obvious she was still hurt and in pain but the shuttle was smooth under her touch and Yaz stood up slowly, hobbling over to her on shaky legs and easing herself carefully into the co-pilot’s chair, the Doctor not meeting her gaze, instead looking out at the view in front of them with a thoughtful expression, flicking a few switches on the controls absentmindedly.

‘What happened?’ Yaz asked quietly, just to break the silence.

‘The Prospect exploded,’ the Doctor said, tapping the glass on one of her screens, a crack through the middle of it. ‘We were thrown clear in the shockwave. I don’t think the Robacks in the escape pods were so lucky though.’

Yaz really wanted to make a comment, she knew Ryan would’ve. Something like ‘they deserved it’, but she also knew the Doctor wouldn’t want her to say something like that so she frowned instead. 

‘Who was firing on us?’

‘Dunno,’ the Doctor shrugged. ‘Didn't get a good look at their ship. It was probably whoever tried to buy me throwing a tantrum when you busted me out. Robacks tend to ask for a massive down-payment on transactions that they’re not a fan of giving back if things go wrong. They probably only meant to damage the ship but they ignited the anti-matter drive.’ She made an explosion motion with her hands and a soft  _ boom  _ with her voice. ‘We’re just lucky you lot managed to get us far enough away to ride out the wave rather than get stuck in it with the rest of them.’

‘Do you want to know?’ Yaz asked quietly. ‘Who the buyers were?’

The Doctor considered this for a second, but then she shook her head silently and went back to staring at the controls, her lips curled into a frown. 

There was a silence between them while Yaz tried to think of something to say. She didn't want to ask ‘are you okay?’ because the answer to that was so heartbreakingly obvious, and instead she looked down at her hands clasped in her lap, utterly speechless in the face of her friend; the friend she’d never given up on. Not once. Even in her darkest days, and there had been many, she knew in her heart she would see the Doctor again and now she was in front of her and Yaz could think of nothing to say.

‘Do you want a haircut when we get back to the TARDIS?’ she asked instead, immediately internally cringing at the stupidity of the question, but the Doctor smiled and glanced over at her, the straggling blonde locks falling into her eyes. 

‘Yeah, that would be awesome.’

‘We should go to a spa planet too. Ooh can we go to Kastelan 9 again? With the mud bath that smelt like lemons?’

‘Yaz, I’m gonna take you to Kastelan  _ 10  _ with the mud baths that smell like baking.’

‘Mud baths can smell like baking?’

‘Yep! They have the most amazing facials too, never had an excuse to try them before, think I could do with one now.’

‘Well we both know Graham will want a facial.’

‘There’s a sauna for Ryan too.’

‘Do they do ice creams?’

‘On tap.’

‘Oh  _ brilliant _ .’

There was another silence but both women had a soft smile on their faces and Yaz felt an inexplicable surge of happiness well up inside her like nothing she’d felt before. Team TARDIS was back, the fam was reunited at last. 

‘I really missed you,’ Yaz said quietly and the smile slid off the Doctor’s face as she manipulated the controls, the Lounge’s shuttle bay doors in sight now as their little ship glided silently towards them.

The Doctor looked up at her and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. She reached out and wordlessly took hold of one of Yaz’s hands, not trusting herself to say anything but somehow managing to say it all with touch alone. 

Yaz heard noises from behind her and turned to see Graham and Ryan standing up, clutching their heads and pulling faces.

‘Ah mate, my head feels worse than that time I went to Corp all night with Dumbass Dave,’ Ryan complained. 

‘Hey, Doc,’ Graham said, spotting her at the controls, still with her hand in Yaz’s. ‘That coat suits you.’

‘Wotcha,’ she replied with a soft smile.

‘Nope, sorry, can’t do this,’ Ryan said annoyed, flinging his hands up in the air. ‘Doctor, I’m sorry, but you’re getting a hug.’

He strode across the ship and carefully pressed their bodies together, tucking his arms around her waist, mindful of her injuries, holding her gently against him. 

‘Hey,’ the Doctor said quietly, arms around his chest and face buried in his shoulder. 

‘You’re badass, you know that?’ Ryan whispered to her. ‘Super, super badass.’

‘That’s high praise coming from him,’ Yaz said. 

_ ‘WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU LOT BEEN?!’ _

Ryan and the Doctor sprang apart as the communications burst into life, the crackling, angry voice of Mr Fortuno filling the shuttle.

‘I forgot about him,’ Graham said slowly. 

‘Friend of yours?’ the Doctor asked, eyebrow raised.

‘Mr Fortuno, he was the manager of the bar we worked at while we were… well, while we were looking for you,’ Yaz said. 

The Doctor looked at her cautiously, her expression impossible to read.

‘He isn’t so bad,’ Yaz said with a shrug. ‘Just your standard flying spaceship boss really.’

The communications fizzed again.

_ ‘You’ve been missing for hours! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fire you on the spot!’ _

‘Respectively, Mr Fortuno,’ Graham said, leaning over the console to speak into the microphone. ‘We resign, effective immediately.’

_ ‘NOTICE PERIOD IS 2 WEEKS,’  _ the angry voice shot back.

‘Customers with your current medical symptoms browsed blood pressure medication,’ the Doctor said absentmindedly, doing her best Kerblam! voice. 

_ ‘Who the hell are you?’ _

She sighed and nudged the microphone towards her face. 

‘Captain Jack been around lately?’

There was a pause on the other end of the line and the Doctor gently stopped their shuttle in front of the hanger doors, waiting for a response.

_ ‘I… uh. I don’t know who you’re referring to.’ _

‘Captain Jack Harkness,’ she said patiently. ‘I’m sure I heard he was in this part of the galaxy. Telling stories, gambling, drinking himself under the table.’

_ ‘I don’t know…’ _

‘Yes you do,’ she replied, still with that same patient tone of voice. ‘Because he paid you big money to hide him here, didn't he? I don’t speak to him very often but we catch up now and then. He mentioned that he paid you to hide him and you sold him out.’

_ ‘I don’t know who you think you are, but if you think you can threaten me…’ _

‘I’m the Doctor,’ she said, steel in her voice. ‘And Jack is a friend of mine. Now I know that he would have mentioned me so you know what I’m capable of. But because my friend Yaz here said that you’re not so bad, I’m going to be nice and lay things out for you. You are going to open the doors, we are going to land our shuttle, find my ship, get out of your hair, and you’re never going to hear from us again. Sound okay with you?’

There was silence from the other end of the line but the doors slid slowly open and the Doctor was able to pilot the shuttle in and bring it down gently to land, the doors of their little ship falling off of their own accord as soon as she did so.

‘Aw,’ Graham said, and his face fell. ‘I got attached to our little chuggaboom.’

* * *

The TARDIS was where they’d left it in the lower levels of the ship and the Doctor’s face darkened as they walked towards it. She was walking shakily with a limp, Yaz at her side. Ryan had offered her an arm for support but she’d refused and instead the two men were hanging back, exchanging uneasy glances but staying in distance in case she fell.

‘We need to have words,’ the Doctor growled, storming up the TARDIS floor towards the console, but when no protesting beep sounded in response she paused and carefully put her hand on the dash, the ship remaining dark and silent.

‘She said she used up all of her energy chasing you across the universe,’ Ryan said, by way of explanation. 

‘Did she now,’ the Doctor replied, face hardening. 

‘She said you’d be able to fix her,’ Graham said, and the Doctor turned to face them with a frown.

‘When you say “she said”...’

‘It was just after you disappeared,’ Yaz whispered. ‘We came back to the TARDIS when we heard the engines start up, thinking it might be you, but it was her. She flung us about a bit and then explained what was going on. She was wearing this really ratty dress, kind of Victorian style.’

‘She manifested herself in physical form,’ the Doctor said, shocked. ‘No wonder the power has drained.’

‘You can get her going again though, right, Doc?’ Graham asked, anxious to get away.

The Doctor looked down at her hands, then up at the crystal collum in the center of the console. She looked older suddenly and her shoulders sagged, Ryan stepping forward slightly in case he had to catch her.

‘How long was on I on there for?’ she asked quietly. 

The three humans exchanged uncomfortable glances.

‘We think, we’re not sure, but we think we were here for around three and a half months,’ Graham said quietly. ‘It’s the space calendars, innit, Doc? Makes no sense to me.’

‘Three and a half months,’ she repeated, then her knees buckled and she crashed to the ground, Ryan running forward to support her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, looking up at them. ‘I’m so sorry. The TARDIS should have taken you all home, that’s what the emergency protocols are  _ for.  _ She shouldn’t have played detective and dragged you halfway across the galaxy.’

‘We’re glad she did,’ Yaz said softly. 

‘Three and a half months on your own,’ the Doctor mumbled, although her friends got the feeling she was talking to herself rather than to them.

‘We weren’t on our own,’ Ryan said. ‘We had each other.’

‘You should have been at home.’

‘Yeah, stuck on Earth worrying about you for the rest of our lives, good times.’

‘You would have been safe,’ she protested, and Yaz squeezed her hand tightly.

‘We would have been  _ miserable.  _ Never knowing what happened to you, always waiting to hear the TARDIS, never wanting to settle or move away in case you came back and couldn’t find us. That’s no way to live. And yeah, the bar had its ups and downs but we were all together and better positioned to find you.’

‘You give any of these blokes a strong enough drink and they don’t stop talking,’ Graham said, trying to lighten the mood. 

‘You should never have been in this position,’ the Doctor whispered, the guilt on her face breaking their hearts. 

‘Doctor…’ Ryan said, but she shook her head and turned away from them, reaching up for the console and pulling herself upright, shaking off Ryan’s supportive arm. 

She snapped her fingers and soft wisps of golden light appeared around her fingertips, floating ethereally around her hand in the dark of the TARDIS. She put her hand flat on the console and the light transferred from her fingertips into the ship, glowing brilliantly under the console before dissipating, the lights slowly beginning to flicker on around them as the box began to power up, the TARDIS coming alive; beeping and whirring its joy at seeing her thief back on board.

‘What was that?’ Graham asked quietly, almost too frightened of the expression on his friend’s face to ask.

‘Regeneration energy,’ she replied, not looking up at him but carefully manipulating the controls. ‘Bit of a kick to get her going again. She can power up properly in the vortex. Loads of artron energy in there.’ 

That familiar dematerialisation sound echoed in the room as the TARDIS was pulled back into the slipstream of the Time Vortex spinning and whirring, the rumble beneath their feet feeling like a weight had been lifted for the three humans, they were finally leaving with the Doctor back at the helm, it almost didn't seem real. 

‘She seems quieter than normal,’ Yaz said, referring to the TARDIS, and her heart plummeted when she noticed the Doctor’s hands were starting to shake.

‘She knows I’m mad at her,’ the Doctor whispered, and Yaz just had time to run forward and catch her before she fell against the console, instead sagging in Yaz’s arms, head against her shoulder.

‘Just put me somewhere comfy,’ she mumbled. ‘I’ll be fine.’

Then she went completely limp.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chuggaboom is a word for something that literally 'chugs' and 'booms', usually applied to old cars or those two-carriage trains that could fall apart at any second :) 
> 
> And yeah it was the Voglars that were attacking the Prospect, they were pissed they didn't get their Time Lord. 
> 
> It should have been the meerkats, I missed a trick there.


	8. Please don't forget you're the end and the beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S THE LAST CHAPTER!!
> 
> Chapter title is another lyric from the song this story gets its name from (Laughing Gas - The Fratellis).
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who has read this and stuck with it and left me lovely comments and kudos, I hope this ending is satisfying enough :) And yes, you may have noticed I upped the story rating. I caved.
> 
> Also, warnings for mentions and discussions of rape.

‘Now I know what you’re going to say.’

_‘DO YOU REALLY.’_

The TARDIS held her hands up, backing slowly away as the Doctor stalked menacingly towards her.

‘They didn't want to go home!’

‘So you thought it would be save to drag them into the middle of the Proxian Galaxy? One of the most _dangerous_ parts of space?? Especially for three humans with no-one to protect them! What’s the point in even having emergency protocols if you ignore them!’

‘That’s why I took them to the Liquor Lounge! I knew they’d be able to hide there!’

_‘You put them at risk.’_

The TARDIS folded her arms across her chest, glaring at her thief crossly. They were stood on top of a cliff, beautiful views of rolling hills in front of them. It was a cloudy day and seagulls were flying around their heads, cawing to each other, the beach and the sea a faint blue speck in the distance. It was a magnificent view but the two women were too busy glaring at each other to appreciate it, the Doctor’s pale blue coat tails flapping in the breeze as her hair whipped around her face.

‘Historically,’ the TARDIS began, ‘when you try and send our friends away if you’re in trouble they always seem to find a way to come back. Such as!’ she added quickly when the Doctor opened her mouth to object - ‘Rose.’

The Doctor felt her hearts leap into her chest.

‘You tricked her into going back home when the Daleks showed up and she ripped open my heart and absorbed all the energy of the Time Vortex to fly me back to the future and save you.’

‘And she nearly died doing it,’ the Doctor protested.

‘Clara then!’ the TARDIS interjected. ‘On Trenzalore! You sent her back to Earth and she hung onto my doors and was pulled through space to come back! You sent her away twice and both times she managed to come back.’

‘The second time was the Papal Mainframe though,’ the Doctor protested.

‘It makes no difference! She didn't want to leave you, none of them ever want to leave you.’

‘I just want them to be safe,’ the Doctor cried. ‘If I’m in a situation like that, where I’m not going to escape, I want my friends to be safe at home and not lost millions of lightyears away from Earth.’

‘I heard what Yaz said,’ the TARDIS said, grasping her thief’s hands tightly in her own. ‘She’s right. I could have taken them home, could have left them on Earth and let myself turn to dust but please, Doctor. _My_ Doctor. Think about what it would have done to them. Always wondering, never knowing, it would have ripped them in two.’

The Doctor’s head dropped onto her chest and she looked down at the ground, the grass green beneath her feet.

‘They love you,’ the TARDIS said, gently. ‘They all do. Even now, they’re not leaving you.’

* * *

_‘What do you think she’s dreaming about?’ Graham asked as their friend frowned in her sleep, her fingers clenching and unclenching beneath the blankets they’d piled on top of her._

_‘I don’t know,’ Yaz whispered, wiping away the tear that was trickling slowly down the Doctor’s cheek. ‘I hope it isn’t too awful.’_

* * *

The Doctor raised a hand to her face, feeling Yaz’s gentle touch on her cheek.

‘Doctor,’ the TARDIS said softly. ‘I’m sorry I did what I did. I’m sorry I upset you, I’m sorry I put our friends at risk, but I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t have done it if I thought they couldn’t handle it, they were just so desperate to see you again.’

‘Please,’ the Doctor whispered. ‘Please don’t do it again. Promise me. Promise me you won’t do it again.’

‘I promise,’ the TARDIS said, a hand on the Doctor’s chin to tilt her head up. The TARDIS’ old eyes were full of sadness as she looked at the sorrow in the Doctor’s face.

‘Oh, my beautiful idiot,’ she said softly. ‘What did those monsters do to you?’

‘They can’t know,’ the Doctor whispered. ‘Yaz, Graham and Ryan. I don’t want them to know.’

‘I won’t say anything,’ the TARDIS reassured her. ‘But let them take care of you, please. I’ll take care of them.’

The Doctor nodded and the TARDIS leaned in to kiss her cheek, the landscape beneath them falling away into nothingness.

* * *

_Look at where you are, look at where you started._

Safe.

That was the first thought that popped into the Doctor’s head as she slowly felt herself being pulled from sleep, the TARDIS gently withdrawing from her mind. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly and completely safe.

_The fact that you’re alive is a miracle._

She was warm and comfortable, there was a reassuring weight over her and someone was stroking her head, fingers trailing softly through her hair. The non-stop pain she’d been suffering with for the past few months was gone and although her head still felt a little foggy she knew it was the fogginess caused by being half asleep rather than drugs.

_Just stay alive, that would be enough._

‘Yaz?’ she mumbled sleepily, blearily blinking her eyes open as she recognised the soft voice that was singing quietly to her.

‘You’re okay,’ Yaz whispered quietly. ‘You’re in my room.’

There was a soft glow coming from the small light on Yaz’s bedside table and the Doctor could see Graham snoring in an armchair by the bed in what looked like a truly uncomfortable position, head tilted back over the top of the chair. Yaz was on the bed with her, sat up against the headboard and Ryan was also in an armchair, torso on the bed and head in his arms, one of his hands clutching the Doctor’s.

‘I was singing for you but I sent these two to sleep instead,’ Yaz chuckled quietly. ‘How are you feeling? You looked upset earlier, in your sleep I mean. Your face went all scrunchy.’

‘I was arguing with the TARDIS,’ the Doctor mumbled, looking up at her. ‘I think it’s all sorted now though.’

The TARDIS hummed softly in response.

Yaz carefully wriggled down the bed so she was facing the Doctor and tucked an arm under her.

‘You warm enough?’

The Doctor nodded and shuffled closer into Yaz. There was a duvet and blankets over her and the bed was soft and cosy. It was the warmest she’d felt in months and she allowed herself this small moment of vulnerability as Yaz held her, soothed by the sound of Ryan and Graham snoring almost in sync and the gentle thud of Yaz’s heart in her chest, the Doctor wriggling closer to hear it better.

‘Why _Hamilton_?’ the Doctor whispered.

‘Because you like it,’ Yaz replied with a soft smile. ‘I sang _Burn_ a lot at the jazz bar, and I did _The Room Where it Happens_ once or twice. Me and Ryan even did _Your Obedient Servant_ as a duet once, that was a laugh. I was Burr, he was Hamilton.’

‘I heard you singing, when I was on the Prospect, when I was in your head,’ the Doctor said, finding Yaz’s hand under the blankets and squeezing. ‘I can’t tell you what it meant to me.’

‘Maybe when you’re better,’ Yaz said softly. ‘We could go and see Hamilton on Broadway, the original show. The _original_ original, since you have a time machine and everything, and if you’re not sick of it after seeing it 900 times.’

‘Definitely,’ the Doctor mumbled, already feeling that soft tug of sleep beginning to pull her back down again. There was something tugging at the back of her mind, a hazy memory she was struggling to remember. It felt important, but what was it?

‘Go back to sleep,’ Yaz said gently. ‘We’ve got you.’

The Doctor’s head swam pleasantly as sleep pulled her back under, that memory continuing to tug and pull at her. Her rescue was a blur in her mind. She remembered waking up on the floor of the shuttle to find her three friends unconscious around her and the console alarming urgently, but anything before that was a haze, small details popping out like the teleport disk in Yaz’s hands and the worry in Graham’s eyes but nothing concrete, nothing firm and certain.

Still, there was something important that she needed to remember...

* * *

She woke up three days later to a panicked Ryan who immediately yelled for the others, continuously shaking her shoulder in case she drifted off again until she told him, in no uncertain terms, to knock it off. In hindsight, perhaps explaining what a healing coma was and why, exactly, she’d looked like a corpse during it may have been a better idea to avoid freaking out the three humans who apparently hadn’t been able to find a pulse, or see her chest moving as she breathed. If it wasn’t for the TARDIS displaying her lifesigns above the bed they may even have buried her. That was a fun conversation.

The next few days she spent drifting in and out of consciousness while her body healed and expelled the toxins they’d given her over the past three months. Regular food, sleep and water allowed her injured lung to regenerate itself and she realised how poorly it had healed in the first instance when she woke up one morning suddenly able to breath again. That morning Yaz helped her into the bath and carefully trimmed her shaggy hair until it was back to how to preferred it, soft and gently swinging across her face.

She noticed her fam was tiptoeing, unsure of how to talk to her or act around her. They were treating her almost like she was glass, as though one poorly timed comment could break her. In the end she had enough and declared an impromptu pizza night where they all gathered in the library and she told them to stop it.

‘Treat me the way you always have,’ she told them, Graham looking as though he was on the verge of tears and Ryan and Yaz not far behind him. ‘I’m still me. And yeah, the past few months haven’t been amazing for any of us but they’re behind us now and we have more exciting things to think about and more adventures to go on. Plus, I want to hear about your adventures on the jazz bar! Tell me everything.’

The rest of that night was easier, and the Doctor found herself laughing freely when Graham described how he’d knocked over a tray of drinks and smashed thirty glasses on his first shift at the bar.

‘Luckily the bloke I was working with helped me clear it up so Mr Fortuno didn't get wind of it! Can you imagine, fired on my first day. I can drive a bloody bus but carrying glasses is beyond me.’

Ryan and Yaz then gave a quick demonstration of their _Your Obedient Servant_ duet and by the end of the evening they’d all settled into a comfortable silence, nestled into each other under blankets, bellies full of pizza and contented smiles on their faces. The Doctor could feel herself drifting off again, fingers playing with the label on Yaz’s jacket until suddenly -

‘YOU KISSED ME!’

Graham, Yaz and Ryan jumped back in shock at the Doctor’s sudden realisation, her eyes wide as she finally remembered that small detail she’d forgotten, the feel of Yaz’s hands on her face, her mouth on her own, the memory pushing itself forcefully into her head.

‘Uuuuuuh,’ was all Yaz managed and Graham and Ryan exchanged quick glances.

‘In her defence, you did ask her to do something un-Yaz like,’ Graham said quickly as Yaz flushed bright pink. ‘You didn't believe we were real.’

The Doctor frowned. ‘Didn't I? Honestly I’m having trouble remembering any of it. I _do_ remember Yaz kissing me though, that definitely happened.’

‘Hey, you liked it,’ Ryan said. ‘You didn't complain at the time.’

‘Please stop,’ Yaz said through her hands, and Ryan gave her a reassuring pat on the back.

The Doctor snuggled in closer to Yaz with a dopey grin on her face, proud of herself for remembering, dropping her head onto the other woman’s shoulder and closing her eyes.

‘She’s slept more these past couple of days than she has in all the months we’ve spent with her,’ Graham said once the Doctor’s breathing had evened out and she was asleep again, slumped against Yaz.

‘Probably needs it,’ Ryan conceded. ‘You did a great job with her hair, Yaz. She looks more like herself now.’

‘Hmm,’ Yaz said quietly, one hand absentmindedly stroking the aforementioned hair, now soft and healthy instead of thick and tangled. The ball of guilt that had settled in her stomach these past few days felt larger now,  and she realised that part of her had hoped the Doctor wouldn’t remember their brief moment of intimacy.

‘Hey,’ Graham said, softly. ‘You kissed her because you needed to, because she asked you to, because she was freaking the hell out.’

‘And look at her,’ Ryan said, gesturing at their sleeping friend. ‘She obviously isn’t holding it against you judging by the way she’s latched on like an octopus.’

‘I feel like I took advantage of her,’ Yaz said quietly, that feeling that had been gnawing at her finally spilling to the surface. ‘She was vulnerable and frightened and I didn't think.’

‘Yaz,’ Graham said gently. ‘I think that, in that moment, you gave her exactly what she needed. A reason to believe she was safe and a feeling of affection, more than likely the first she’d had in months.’

‘What if she didn't want it though,’ Yaz whispered.

‘She literally clung to you,’ Ryan told her sternly. ‘Even when you pulled away she didn't let go. Even now, when she’s asleep, she’s clinging to you.’

‘Plus,’ Graham chimed in. ‘A person who actually took advantage of her wouldn’t _think_ that they’d taken advantage. The fact that you’re worrying about it just proves that you didn't.’

‘I just don’t want her to resent me for it,’ Yaz said, looking down at the Doctor’s sleeping face, finally peaceful.

‘I really don’t think she does,’ Ryan said. ‘Plus, it’s not like it’s gonna happen again, right?’

A tear spilled down Yaz’s cheek before she had a chance to wipe it away.

‘Oh,’ Graham said softly. ‘I see the problem.’

* * *

‘So I had a weird dream last night,’ the Doctor said, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen.

She was back in her normal clothes, coat-less and white sleeves pushed up to her elbows, her earring glittering brightly and her hair tucked behind it. Yaz wondered how many pairs she had lying around, considering the set that Graham had found in the box were practically destroyed. Maybe she just knew a really good tailor, or maybe the TARDIS had a replicator. Both, probably.

‘Oh yeah?’ Yaz said, buttering her toast and trying to ignore the frantic beating of her heart.

And then suddenly the Doctor was in front of her, pushing her back against the kitchen counter and she was kissing her and every coherent thought in Yaz’s head was flying out the window. Or metaphorical window, in this case.

When she pulled away Yaz was dazed and she blinked confusingly up at the Doctor, realising she’d bunched her hands in the Doctor’s shirt and was holding on for dear life, similarly to the way the Doctor herself had behaved on the shuttle.

‘I lied a bit,’ the Doctor admitted. ‘It wasn’t a dream, it was telepathy. I heard everything you guys were talking about last night. I didn't mean to listen, but I was asleep and you were playing with my hair and, well, I did.’

‘Doctor…’ Yaz breathed. ‘I’m -’

‘Don’t say it, Yaz,’ the Doctor told her, smiling softly. ‘Cause Graham was right. You gave me what I needed and you weren’t taking advantage, not even for a second. And I don’t want you to think that you were.’

Yaz pushed herself forwards to kiss her again but this time she wrapped her arms around her shoulders to pull her closer,  mouth moving lazily against hers as the Doctor tucked her arms around her waist.

‘More importantly,’ the Doctor whispered when they broke apart. ‘I don’t want you to stop.’

* * *

 _Hamilton_ had been amazing and Yaz’s voice was still hoarse from singing aloud at the top of her lungs. Even Graham had enjoyed it after declaring that rap and hip hop music ‘wasn’t his thing.’ They’d gone out for pizza afterwards (in New York City no less!) and the Doctor had almost seemed like her old self, bright and breezy as she told them about the time she’d actually _met_ Hamilton, his wife, and their seven children.

‘Before the whole “Reynolds Pamphlet” incident,’ she added. ‘Although I did catch the tail-end when that came out and it was _messy.’_

It was in the alleyway in which they’d left the TARDIS that the Doctor’s demeanour had changed completely. A young man had pushed a woman up against the wall, hidden behind dumpsters in the dark and was fumbling with her dress while his other hand pushed against her mouth, oblivious to the muffled shouts and screams as she tried in vain to wrestle herself free.

Yaz and Ryan had been on him in a shot, tackling him to the ground, but the Doctor had frozen, unable to move. It was Yaz that had had to coax her back into the TARDIS once the police handcuffed him and dragged him away, and at that point she was shaking like a leaf.

Back in Yaz’s bedroom she hadn’t wanted to talk about it and had tried to distract Yaz by kissing her instead, but the desperation in her lips and body was impossible to ignore and Yaz pulled away when she felt wet on her cheek, realising the Doctor was crying silently, quickly bringing a hand to her face to wipe away the tears. Yaz caught it and threaded their fingers together, pulling the Doctor against her so she could cry on Yaz’s shoulder, rubbing her back reassuringly.  

‘Did they… you know,’ Yaz whispered softly, remembering the expression of absolute helplessness on the other woman’s face. She didn't really want to know the answer, but it was obviously playing on her friend’s mind and the Doctor wasn’t very forthcoming with these things, preferring to bottle everything up inside her until she reached crisis point and exploded.

‘No,’ the Doctor whispered. ‘They almost did, once, but no.’

Yaz nuzzled the Doctor’s neck with her nose, kissing the soft skin as she felt her friend relax against her.

‘I remember thinking how unfair the whole thing was,’ the Doctor mumbled into the fabric of her shoulder. ‘I’ve been captured loads of times, too many to count, but no-one’s ever tried to…’ She went still and sighed unhappily, fingers playing with loose strands of Yaz’s hair.

‘Because you were a man before?’

‘Yeah,’ she mumbled. ‘I think so.’

They were silent for a moment, holding each other, and Yaz was certain that the Doctor was asleep when she suddenly spoke up again.

‘I also remember thinking how cruel it was that the first time I was going to do _that_ in this body was against my will with someone I hated.’

She spat the last few words out and sat up, pulling herself out of Yaz’s arms to rest her chin on her knees, arms wrapped around her legs, fingers clutching the fabric so tightly her knuckles went white, glaring furiously at her coat where it lay slung over the chair.

‘Rape is one of the worst things you can do to someone,’ Yaz said gently. ‘The complete loss of control that comes from it, the pain, the godawful intimacy of the whole thing. It’s a violation of your body in one of the worst possible ways.’

The Doctor tilted her head to face Yaz, face softening, her cheek resting on her knees.

‘Is that from experience?’ she asked gently and Yaz shrugged and looked down at her feet.

‘Someone tried it on once, on the way home. Grabbed me and shoved me into an alley, tried to rip my trousers off.’

The Doctor said nothing, but her eyes were gentle and Yaz looked up at her before continuing.

‘I’d just started my police training, literally had a course in self-defence _that day._ I easily shoved him off me and made a run for it. I reported it but they never found him.’

She looked down at her hands, playing with the sleeve of her shirt cuff.

‘I often wonder how many other girls he’s done that to,’ she whispered. ‘Cause he had a scarf pulled up over his chin so I didn't get a good look at his face. I often wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t been able to fight him off me as well.’

The Doctor reached out her hand and held Yaz’s gently, her touch saying all the things Yaz needed to hear.

_I hear you. I’m there for you. Your feelings and your life matter to me. You are special to me._

She looked exhausted suddenly, and Yaz carefully tugged her back down into the bed, pulling the sheets up over them and holding her gently.

* * *

She woke up to the Doctor nuzzling her, her hands on Yaz’s waist, her mouth soft and wet against Yaz’s neck.

It was still dark and Yaz allowed herself to enjoy the sensations of the Doctor’s touch on her as she gently pulled herself from sleep, reaching out for the other woman, the Doctor’s mouth transferring to her own when she realised Yaz was awake. She was kissing her urgently and she felt warm under Yaz’s hands. The Doctor wriggled their bodies closer, both of her arms around Yaz’s waist to pull her tighter, tilting her head for a deeper kiss, pressing herself against Yaz’s chest so hard that Yaz could feel the _thump-thump thump-thump_ of her hearts pounding through the fabric between them.  

‘Doctor,’ Yaz breathed when she’d moved back to her neck, kissing and biting gently, hands roaming under Yaz’s pyjama top to seek out the soft skin underneath. It was clear what she wanted, but Yaz was reluctant to give it to her and she gently took the hand that was creeping up her chest, squeezing it carefully.

‘Please, Yaz,’ the Doctor whispered. ‘I need to know what it feels like, what it’s _supposed_ to feel like, before anyone else does that to me again.’

‘I don’t want this to be something you regret in the morning,’ Yaz said softly, lacing their fingers together. ‘Because I want this, but not if it’ll drive a wedge between us.’

The Doctor kissed her slowly and Yaz gripped her hair to bring her closer, her heart beating so quickly she thought it might take off.

‘Nothing could ever drive a wedge between us, Yasmin Khan,’ the Doctor said, her eyes shining in the dark. She nudged her nose against Yaz’s and Yaz knew she couldn’t say no to her, sliding the Doctor’s hand back up her chest as she kissed her again, her hand warm against Yaz’s breast.

‘You’re not healed yet,’ Yaz whispered to the Doctor. ‘Not fully, no matter what you might say to the contrary, so let me look after you and if you want me to stop I will, okay?’

The Doctor nodded and Yaz carefully rolled her onto her back, straddling her hips as they pulled off each other’s clothes until they were both naked against the sheets, hands exploring the bare skin that hadn’t been on show until now.

The Doctor was warm underneath her and Yaz’s hands lazily stroked her bare stomach as she kissed her, moving carefully against her. Yaz moved her mouth to the Doctor’s neck to carefully bite at the soft skin while a hand came up to cup her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple, the Doctor squirming beneath her and gasping into the air.

Yaz allowed herself a moment to take in the sight, to think about how, exactly, she was going to do this. She noticed the bruises on the inside of the Doctor’s thighs when they’d carefully gotten her into bed after she’d collapsed the first night in the TARDIS console. Ryan had been so angry that evening he’d bruised his knuckles from continuously punching a bag in the TARDIS gym.

‘Yaz?’ the Doctor whispered below her and Yaz realised she’d been quiet too long.

‘Are you sure, Doctor?’ she asked softly. ‘Are you sure this is what you want right now?’

The Doctor pushed herself into a sitting position, Yaz still straddling her hips, so she could kiss her softly.

‘I need this, Yaz,’ she whispered. ‘But only if you need it too.’

Yaz kissed gently at the Doctor’s neck, hands on her waist as she held her carefully.

‘I’m not going to use my fingers,’ she said, feeling that familiar surge of desire well up inside her, the Doctor’s eyes black in the dim light of her room. ‘I think that might be a bit much for your first time so I’m going to use my mouth instead, is that okay?’

The Doctor nodded, hands tightening on Yaz’s thighs, and Yaz carefully pushed her back down onto the bed and maneuvered herself so she was holding her body carefully over the other woman’s as she started to gently kiss and nibble at the Doctor’s skin, working her way slowly downwards, her fingers twisting with the blonde’s as the Doctor gasped and writhed beneath her, every touch setting her alight in a way she’d never felt as a man.

Settling herself between the Doctor’s legs, Yaz carefully kissed the inside of her thighs, the smell of her sending shocks through her body and making her toes curl.

‘If you want me to stop…’

‘I’ll tell you,’ the Doctor said softly.

She started off slowly, carefully nudging the Doctor with her nose, checking she was aroused and feeling the tension in the other woman’s thighs, rubbing the back of her hands with her thumbs reassuringly. She licked her lightly, the Doctor relaxing slowly and when that didn't seem to freak her out either she gently sucked at her clit.

The Doctor arched her back into the air, a strangled moan escaping her throat but she didn't protest and her hands went to Yaz’s hair to hold her there, seemingly unsure of what to do with herself.

Yaz obliged, gently swirling her tongue around the small bud, squeezing the Doctor’s hands as she nuzzled her, licking slowly and enjoying the sounds the other woman was making.

She pulled back to check the Doctor was okay but the blonde made a noise of protest and she went back to it, licking and sucking until the Doctor was gasping in a way that Yaz recognised only too well and her thighs were clenching around her head as Yaz continued to suck at her clit, riding out her climax until the Doctor pushed Yaz’s head away and she shuffled back up the bed to lie against her, a hand on the Doctor’s chest feeling her hearts pounding through the skin as her breathing slowed.

‘Oh, Yaz,’ the Doctor said softly, curling into her. ‘You’re _amazing.’_

‘Was that okay?’ Yaz whispered, and the Doctor nodded lazily, a hand on Yaz’s waist pulling her closer.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘Really, thank you.’

Yaz kissed her forehead, wrapping her arms around the Doctor’s small frame and pulling the sheets up over them.

‘Go to sleep,’ she said softly, stroking the Doctor's hair. ‘It’s late.’

‘Time is a construct,’ came the muffled response, but she was asleep in seconds.

* * *

It took a few more weeks, and many _many_ spas and leisure planets, for things to begin to go back to normal and for the Doctor to start showing some resemblance of her previous self, bouncing around and excitedly rambling about anything and everything they came across.

They hadn’t told the two men about what had been blossoming between them, although Yaz was certain they knew, and in the evenings - once the two men had gone to sleep - Yaz clambered into bed with the Doctor and they continued to figure out what she did and didn't like, tenderly showing her how to trust intimate touch again until she was gasping and crying and begging for more, returning the favour with vigour and enthusiasm.

It was on Talaxion that the cat was well and truly let out of the bag. The four of them were stargazing, stretched out across soft blue grass with the night sky brilliant above them, galaxies and constellations shining above their heads. Shooting stars flashed and burned and when the Doctor turned her head to face Yaz, kissing her softly seemed only natural, their mouths moving gently together under the colours of the sky, fingers lacing by their sides.

It was when Graham sat up to ask the Doctor a question that he realised what was going on, and he sneakily laid back down again with a thumbs up to Ryan. Money may have passed hands.

‘Thank you, Yaz,’ the Doctor whispered when they broke apart and Graham and Ryan had managed to strike up an awkward conversation about, bizarrely, pineapples in an attempt to give the two women some privacy.

‘For what?’ Yaz whispered back.

‘For everything,’ the Doctor said, her eyes soft. ‘For saving me, in more ways than one.’

‘You still don’t get it, do you?’ Yaz said, her smile wide as she rolled onto her side to face the other woman.

‘Get what?’

‘You dropped out of the sky and into my life and from that moment I’ve wanted nothing but to spend every waking hour in your company. You’re everything to me. I’m in love with you.’

The Doctor’s eyes shone as she kissed her again, slowly, savouring the moment, and when she pulled away Yaz could see the stars reflected in her eyes.

‘I’m in love with you too.’

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT'S IT.
> 
> Also, I thoroughly recommend a fic called 'The Importance of Self Care' by Flirteenth Doctor, there's amazing stuff in the story about healing comas and you get Twelve and Thirteen sassing each other!
> 
> Love to you all <3 <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> OMG I DIDN'T PUT THE SONG YAZ SINGS IN THE NOTES OMG  
> it's 'You're a mean one, Mr Grinch', but it's the LINDSEY STERLING VERSION


End file.
